


If I Want To

by riddlemethistoo



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina - Sarah Rees Brennan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 112,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22368019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riddlemethistoo/pseuds/riddlemethistoo
Summary: What if the witch-hunters had shown up a little later, and Nick Scratch had the chance to make some odd decisions under the influence! Diverges midway through Part 2.
Relationships: Harvey Kinkle/Nicholas Scratch, Harvey Kinkle/Nicholas Scratch/Sabrina Spellman, Harvey Kinkle/Rosalind "Roz" Walker, Harvey Kinkle/Sabrina Spellman, Nicholas Scratch/Sabrina Spellman
Comments: 434
Kudos: 418





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firstaudrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstaudrina/gifts).



Roz’s parents were talking about sending her away.

The dark thought stayed with Harvey, as he drove around the curves of the roads through the wild woods of his town. It was awful of Harvey, to think of how lonely he would be, when she was gone as well as Sabrina.

Roz—his girlfriend, Harvey reminded himself, his girlfriend who he loved—was having a hard enough time. She’d gone _blind_. He refused to bother her with his stupid worries. He’d stayed with her talking about Braille and radio plays and visits until the Walkers came home and insisted Roz should go to bed and pointedly stared at Harvey. He hated to leave her, but he had to. 

It was one of those nights when the dark seemed laced with frost, and there were no lights in his windows. His dad was out, then. Harvey had suspected he would be. He’d said something about men having needs this morning, the way he did sometimes, and usually after that he’d disappear and stay away for a night or two. He’d come back with considerably emptier pockets.

Harvey figured his dad was even lonelier than he was. He tried to think of it that way, and not to be disgusted by his dad. It seemed even lonelier than being by yourself, paying some poor woman who didn’t want to be with you. It was making someone else lonely too.

He climbed out of his truck, swinging his keys from his fingers, then froze. On his porch steps, in the icy darkness, there was a huddled shape. Harvey didn’t have to wonder who it was: Nick Scratch was unmistakable. But Harvey’d never seen him like this before, his usually arrogant head hanging, his back curved in an attitude that seemed almost like despair.

Harvey dropped his bag and ran to the steps, fetching up on his knees. There was only one thing he could think of that might make Nick Scratch look like that. And oh God, Harvey’d seen Sabrina just today, and he’d been awful to her, all because he was so mad she’d gone away and she didn’t care anymore. Her sweet face was hurt, and if that was the last time he would ever see her, if she was dead like Tommy--

“Nick,” demanded Harvey, urgent. “Did something happen to Sabrina?”

Nick lifted his head. There was another reason, Harvey realized, that dread had scythed through his heart as he approached Nick. The warlock’s usually sharp black eyes were totally unfocused. The air around him had the strong smoky scent of whisky, which Harvey was too familiar with: which silently whispered fear to him.

“We got expelled,” Nick said, his voice very clear and precise.

He hardly understood through his own fear.

“What?” Harvey asked. “But—but is she all right?”

“She’s with her family,” said Nick. “She always has them to go back to, I suppose. She tried going back to you first, of course.”

His mouth worked, trying to form its usual smirk, and then collapsed. Harvey’s heart was slowing from its terrified sprint, but his thoughts were beginning to whirl. Sabrina was safe, then. But Nick Scratch still looked truly awful.

They weren’t friends, he and Sabrina’s new warlock boyfriend. Nick seemed to dislike him. Harvey wasn't sure if this was because Nick was a witch and Harvey was a witch hunter, or because Nick was cool and Harvey was a loser, or some weird supernatural high school combo of the two. Harvey didn’t know what Nick was doing here.

“Do you,” he began, awkwardly. “Do you mind a lot about being expelled?”

“Dorian told me that if I drank any more I would die,” Nick said conversationally. “He said it was just a warning, and I could go right ahead, and he’d take the money for the drinks off my dead body. I… considered it. But I thought perhaps I should stop.”

“Yeah,” Harvey said, soft with horror. “Good call.”

He reached out. It was impossible to think of holding Nick Scratch’s hand, but he felt he should keep hold of him, so he got a careful grip on Nick’s wrist. Nick watched him reach out, then let Harvey grasp his wrist tight, observing with a measuring air. 

“I didn’t know where else to go,” said Nick. “And you said I could come here.”

Harvey had done no such thing. But it was clear by now that Nick Scratch was out of his mind drunk, and possibly had no idea where he was, or even who Harvey was. And that didn’t matter, since the important thing was to get him up, and hydrated, and resting. It was still February, and it was freezing outside. 

“I’m glad you came here,” Harvey said steadily.

“Are you?” Nick asked. “Oh. I didn’t… I didn’t think you would be.”

For a moment, Harvey thought Nick was simply falling over. Then he realized the fall was calculated, a heavy crumple aimed in Harvey’s direction. Nick landed with his forehead pressed down on Harvey’s shoulder. Harvey’s hand inscribed panic on the night air for a moment, before settling on Nick’s shoulderblade. Nick let out a long relieved breath.

“Huh,” said Harvey. “Okay. Hi.”

“Hi, mortal,” Nick said into his neck.

“Let’s try to get up, shall we!” Harvey suggested desperately. “Come inside.”

“Come in out of the cold,” Nick murmured. Harvey was pretty sure that was what he’d said. Something like that. 

“Yes,” Harvey said. “Exactly right. Up we come.”

“Am I invited?” 

“Yeah, you’re invited.”

Nick gave a mean little laugh. “You’ll be sorry.”

So, Nick was impossible even when he was drunk. That made sense, since alcohol didn’t tend to improve anyone’s personality. You couldn’t leave people incapacitated out in the cold no matter how annoying they were, though, so Harvey pulled Nick to his feet, arm around his shoulders, and helped him negotiate the steps to the front door.

Fortunately—or not—Harvey had extensive experience handling drunks. If he hadn’t, Nick might have walked right into the doorframe, and then right into a beam. Harvey had to pull him back from doing both. Nick stumbled into Harvey and almost fell twice. For a moment there, Harvey thought it would’ve been easier to carry him. 

They fetched up against the upright beam near the door. Harvey still had his arm around Nick’s shoulders. Nick was—if it was anyone but Nick, Harvey would have described him as _clinging_. His hands were loosely grasping Harvey’s shirt, and whenever Harvey shifted position he made an unhappy questing sound, and moved to settle his head down on Harvey’s shoulder, or press his face against Harvey’s throat. It was a lot of physical intimacy all at once.

A cuddly drunk was better than a mean one, Harvey supposed, no matter how wild and unexpected the cuddliness. He knew how mean a mean drunk could get. 

“So, I think you should have a glass of water,” Harvey suggested. “Actually, I think you should have more than one. And maybe something to eat.”

“I want lasagna,” Nick said promptly.

“Not sure I have the ingredients for lasagna,” said Harvey, then felt bad. “I could… go to the store?” 

Nick’s hands went tight in his shirt, and against Harvey’s shoulder he felt Nick shake his head. It seemed Harvey wasn’t allowed go to the store.

“I want _symbolic_ lasagna,” said Nick grouchily.

Harvey laughed. “Oh, okay. Symbolic lasagna it is, then.” 

Since symbolic lasagna wouldn’t help Nick sober up, Harvey kept his arm around Nick’s shoulders and guided him to the tap, where he got Nick a glass of water. Nick made a refusing sound when Harvey tried to detach and make him take the glass.

“Drink it or I’ll be disappointed in you,” he said sternly, forcing the glass into Nick’s hands. 

Nick made a face, but when Harvey allowed Nick to keep a firm grip on his sleeve Nick drank obediently enough, tipping the glass back. Some of the water spilled down Nick’s chin, gleaming silver in the dark of the kitchen, but Nick was clearly trying. Nick was in a bad way. 

Harvey felt sorry enough for him that he let Nick cuddle back up willingly enough, putting an arm around his shoulders again. After all, Nick was having a tough time with being expelled, and with standing.

As though sensing the new give in Harvey’s body as he accepted the cuddling was gonna keep happening, Nick made a pleased, interested sound and began to nose along the skin above Harvey’s shirt collar. 

Okay, cuddly drunk, cool it! 

“You need to go to bed,” Harvey said, in a firm and calm way. 

“Come with me,” Nick mumbled against his throat.

“Obviously I have to?” Harvey pointed out. “You can barely walk.”

If he wasn’t a witch, Harvey would’ve thought about taking him to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. But witches didn’t do hospitals, Sabrina had said. She’d been born in the woods, which seemed a safety hazard.

While Harvey was fretting about witches and their unsanitary lifestyles, he forgot to mind the warlock currently in his charge as closely as he should have, and Nick hit the side of his head against the doorframe pretty hard.

“Oh no,” said Harvey. “Wow, I’m sorry. Are you OK?”

He brought Nick to the bed in a stumbling rush, got him sitting down on the bed and watched anxiously as Nick hunched over for a second, then realized with dawning outrage that Nick wasn’t in terrible pain but laughing softly.

“You’re so weird,” Nick told him, breathless. “I’d forgotten.”

“Excuse me for being concerned you have head trauma,” Harvey said indignantly. 

He was kneeling on the carpet looking up at Nick’s face, but since Nick was laughing at him, he wasn’t going to try and check Nick’s head. As soon as he had that vengeful thought, he regretted it: you couldn’t let people suffer just because they were mocking and cruel. So he checked Nick’s head after all, fingers very light in Nick’s curly hair. There was a bump but it wouldn’t be like, a goose egg. Sparrow egg at worst.

When he drew his hand back, he found Nick looking at him in a strange way. His face was difficult to read, but his focus was intent. 

“I miss you,” Nick whispered.

“Um,” said Harvey. 

It was becoming terrifyingly clear that Nick was actually _hung up_ on the mortal guy whose house he’d misidentified as Harvey’s due to extreme drunkenness. Harvey didn’t know what to do about that at all. He didn’t get witches or the way they did stuff. Since when was Nick Scratch into guys? He seemed so into Sabrina. Wouldn’t this make Sabrina mad? Or would it be okay with her, since she was a cool weird witch and Harvey didn’t know that side of her or her life full of weirdness? Would all the weirdness be okay with this mortal guy? Maybe not. It didn’t seem like things were going that well with the mortal guy.

“Not sure why,” Nick added, closing his eyes. “You are so stupid.”

“Oh, wow, that’s nice!” Harvey exclaimed. 

That was so romantic, he did not think!

He was pretty sure he knew why Nick wasn’t getting anywhere with this guy. He now wondered how Nick had got somewhere with Sabrina: he’d been presuming Nick was actually very charming around people he liked, but maybe not!

Harvey felt sorry for the unknown mortal, and for Nick, and for Sabrina. Only Nick was here right now, though, and he needed help. 

“Nick,” Harvey said, trying to be gentle. “You should lie down. You’ll feel better if you get some sleep.”

“Will I?” said Nick. “I guess so. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” 

“No,” said Harvey. “I wouldn’t.”

He eased Nick back onto the pillows, then tried to gently extricate his shirt from Nick’s grasp. This proved impossible. Harvey tugged as hard on the shirt as he could. Nick held fast.

“I won’t let you go,” said Nick, stubbornly. “I’m sick of letting you go.” 

“This is ridiculous,” said Harvey. 

"Your face is ridiculous," snapped Nick.

He couldn't believe his night was turning into forcible cuddles and insults. Witches were the worst. He'd been planning on--staring sadly into space, unable to stop thinking of all the people he'd lost and those he couldn't help.

Okay, those hadn't been great plans. He still hadn't wanted it to abruptly turn drunk warlock o'clock. Harvey opened his mouth to try and explain about the mistaken identity, and why cuddle time must end.


	2. Chapter 2

Harvey drew in a deep breath and said: “Okay! Let’s be reasonable and take this point by point. Who do you think I am?”

This caused Nick to ease away very slightly, so he could examine Harvey for identifying purposes. He perused Harvey lazily, mouth on the edge of a smile as though he liked what he saw, then blinked up at Harvey from under his eyelashes. 

“Harry,” murmured Nick, and smiled brilliantly.

In that moment, Harvey could almost see how someone might be charmed by Nick Scratch. Someone else. Who was getting called by the correct name. 

“No, that is not right!” Harvey said sternly, even as Nick snuggled back in. 

Nick laughed, low and intimate and close by Harvey’s ear, as if at a private joke. 

Harvey tried to infuse actual sense into these proceedings. “Hey, hey, hey. Look, my name’s not Harry, and you don’t actually want to be doing this.”

Nick made a soft grumbling sound when Harvey tried to wriggle away. “You are adorable, but it’s like your brain doesn’t work right.”

Compliments, cuddling… and endless insults. Witches were wild.

“Is this negging?” said Harvey. “Roz has spoken to me about this and we don’t approve of it!” 

Nick made a bewildered sound, even as he tried to slide an arm around Harvey’s waist and stop him getting away. 

Probably negging was a super mortal thing to do. And if Nick didn’t know about it, nobody had to tell him. Negging didn’t exactly make mortals look good.

Harvey lay flat on his back, giving up for the moment as he tried to regroup and make a new plan. This was his room, his guitar leaning in the corner, his plaid bedspread and photos on the walls. A normal room.

How has my life come to this? he thought. Where did it all go so wrong? He’d just wanted to be with the girl he loved, work at the bookstore, be with his brother, maybe have his dad hate him less. Now everything was horror and magic and death, and he was wrestling drunk guys on his bed like a cheerleader at prom. 

No, that wasn’t a fair thought to have. Harvey didn’t actually feel under any threat. Nick wasn’t like gross Billy, who’d given nice cheerleader Lizzie mono last year. Harvey had found Lizzie crying over it in the hall, and driven her to the clinic. Lizzie hadn’t looked at him, and Billy hadn’t liked him, since that day.

Witches probably didn’t get mono? And more importantly, Harvey wasn’t being—like, pressured. Nick seemed mostly sad, and as if he wanted to be—close to someone. Even though Harvey wasn’t that someone, it didn’t feel bad to be needed for a change. 

But at the same time, this wasn’t exactly normal, and someone should put a stop to it! As the non-wasted person in the room, Harvey had a responsibility. 

“Do you maybe want to let go?” Harvey encouraged.

“No, I don’t want to,” said Nick, obstinate. “Obviously I don’t. Why would you think that?” 

“Right, but maybe I should go…” 

Harvey sighed and got back to trying to gently detach Nick’s hands from his shirt while Nick made complaining sounds that were almost actual whines.

“Please,” said Nick, and Harvey went still. “Please don’t go. I miss you all the time.”

That was it, Harvey thought. He just couldn’t do it. This felt too mean. Everyone was having such a hard time. 

“Hush,” said Harvey. “Okay. I’m—I’ll... It’s all right. I won’t go.”

If Nick Scratch wanted to be held until he went to sleep, Harvey could do that.

“What…” said Harvey, haltingly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Do the weird thing,” Nick whispered.

Oh. My. God.

“What… weird… thing?” Harvey whispered back, with absolute dread.

What would Nick Scratch consider weird? Oh no, Harvey was morally certain there would be devices. Or implements. Or--sex toasters, he really didn’t know much about this stuff. And he didn’t wanna know more about the sex toasters!

“When…” Nick hesitated. “When I’m--sad. And you—pat me? But not like a dog?”

“Huh?” said Harvey.

“You know! You did it before!”

No he hadn’t!

Nick sounded frustrated and on the verge of being more upset. Harvey bit his lip, and patted Nick on the back. 

“There,” said Nick. “Was that so difficult?”

“Oh,” said Harvey, massively relieved. “Oh. Oh, sure. This is fine.”

He patted Nick on the back again, and got his arm around him, since Nick seemed to want a hug but didn't seem sure how to get it and was mostly flailing at him. Nick made a long low sound, so Harvey hoped he was feeling soothed.

“Everything else is gone,” said Nick. “I—I tried to stay away. I really tried. Every time I wanted to see you, I’d go to Dorian’s, or get some guy to do me, or I’d come but I wouldn’t bother you. I told myself I wouldn’t, not ever again, but I’m a liar. I’m sorry but I can’t do it anymore. It wasn’t fair to ask me. You’re not fair.”

Harvey started violently at _get some guy to do me_. Nick blinked at him in reproach. 

“Not once Sabrina wanted me to be faithful, of course.”

“That’s… good,” Harvey said weakly.

He was reconsidering his options.

Leaving the witch sex stuff strictly to one side because Harvey couldn’t deal, Nick was obviously distraught about being expelled. You couldn’t just abandon someone who was upset, any more than you could leave someone out in the cold. Somebody had to be nice to him, and Harvey was the only person here. 

And… Nick didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would ever be this frank, unless he was totally wrecked. Usually he had a façade like a marble wall, smooth and impossible to get past. This was an amount of vulnerability that Nick Scratch, who pretended so hard and so successfully, wouldn’t want someone who mattered to him to see. Possibly it was better that he’d come to the wrong house.

“Sabrina probably doesn’t want me to be faithful anymore though,” Nick said morosely. “I was a dick to her. She came in looking upset, and I knew—I knew it was because of… I lost my temper. And I was drunk. I’ve been drinking all day.”

“Oh wow, I could not tell,” Harvey remarked with extreme sarcasm.

“Really?”

“No, not really. You’re wasted, dude.”

Nick hummed, assenting. Harvey rolled his eyes. He was mostly thinking about Sabrina, her face in the library when they made accusations about witches. He’d wanted to help Roz and he’d wanted to cry and he’d wanted to hurt Sabrina, but he hadn’t thought he could.

She was upset, Nick said, and Nick didn’t know but it was because of Harvey. He’d thought… honestly, he’d thought maybe now she had Nick, she didn’t care what any dumb mortals thought anymore. 

"Oh God," Harvey said. "Oh hell."

"Why must you say such terrible things?" murmured Nick, which was rich coming from him.

God, he’d made a terrible mistake. Tomorrow he would go to the Spellmans’ and apologize. 

“I was mean to Sabrina too,” Harvey said bleakly. “I feel so bad.”

Nick squinted at his chin in a critical fashion. “Why would you do that, Harry? You shouldn’t have done that.”

Oh, right, Nick thought he was some guy named Harry. Obviously Random Harry yelling at Sabrina would be confusing. 

Not that Specific Harvey yelling at Sabrina wasn’t confusing. He didn’t like being angry with her, and he was miserable whenever she was sad. Only he missed her so much, and Roz was hurting, and he was angry at Sabrina for going off and leaving them and being a witch and being so happy with Nick without them, when Roz was suffering and Harvey was totally useless.

But Nick was right. He shouldn’t have said what he had. He knew Sabrina would never do anything to hurt Roz on purpose. He’d let how hurt he was overcome what he knew, and that had hurt Sabrina. Now everyone was in pain.

“Don’t,” said Nick, after a minute. “Don’t be… sad.”

Nick patted him, somewhat clumsily.

“Stop that!” yelped Harvey.

“What?” said Nick. “Why? You’re supposed to—pat—”

“Not on the face!” said Harvey. 

Nick gave a put-upon sigh. “Who makes these rules?”

“In the morning you are going to feel very differently about everything!” said Harvey. “For tonight… what will make you feel better?”

Nick seemed to devote serious attention to this question.

“Let me hold on to you,” said Nick eventually. “Tell me I don’t have to go. Talk to me like I matter.”

“But… I mean… of course you matter?” 

Nick gave a small content sigh, tucking his face in against Harvey’s shoulder, and said, “Little mortal. Oh, my little mortal.” 

Whoever this guy Nick Scratch was hung up on might be, he must be super short. Was it even someone called Harry, or was that the drunkenness talking? Wow, was it Theo, Harvey wondered? Theo was tiny, but totally handsome and cool, so that would make sense. He hoped not. That would be very awkward with Sabrina. Maybe some guy in Riverdale. People said Riverdale guys were extremely sexually magnetic. 

Could be that redheaded guy, Harvey supposed. Girls were always talking about him. Harry Andrews? That didn’t sound right.

Theo would probably have mentioned a torrid affair with Nick Scratch. 

Well, poor Harry or whoever. For now, Nick was Harvey’s problem.

“I’m not little,” Harvey muttered rebelliously. Nick just laughed.

“Oh, I’m glad to have you back again,” Nick murmured. “Being expelled was worth it, for this. You’re not mad anymore, are you? Say you’re not mad.”

“I’m, um, not mad?”

Confused and uncomfortable, but not mad.

“You forgive me.”

If Nick was worrying about this, he probably wouldn’t sleep, and the more Harvey thought about it the more it seemed as if it would be best for Nick to quickly go to sleep. Anyway, he didn’t actually want to upset Nick further. He’d had enough of upsetting people today.

“Yes,” Harvey said patiently. “I forgive you.”

“You don’t hate me anymore?”

“No,” Harvey promised. “I don’t hate you anymore.”

He wasn’t lying. He hadn’t hated Nick before. He’d thought Nick was contemptuous of him and generally awful, but Nick clearly cared about Sabrina, so it was like with Sabrina’s Aunt Zelda—she didn’t like Harvey, but Harvey liked her for loving Sabrina so much. 

And now it was different again. How were you supposed to dislike someone after comforting them when they were upset, and hearing real truths about how they felt? You couldn’t, really. At least, Harvey couldn’t. 

“Harry?” Nick asked, in a tentative voice.

“Mmm?” said Harvey, because he wasn’t going to say ‘yes?’ to a name that wasn’t his.

“Can I come here anytime I want?” Nick hoped. “If I don’t teleport inside. I know that isn’t allowed. I remembered tonight, didn’t I? I tried to be good.”

Congratulations to the short mortal dude for establishing a boundary! Harvey was beginning to be of the strong opinion witches needed more boundaries.

“Not teleporting inside is good,” said Harvey, to encourage the boundaries, and Nick made another pleased sound. The noises Nick made when he was drunk were distinctly strange—there was a quality to them that was slightly animal. “I guess you can come over anytime you want.”

Since once Nick was sober, anytime he wanted would be never, Harvey guessed that would be fine!

This elicited another odd noise from Nick. It was a kind of happy growl. They weren’t bad noises, but they were a little unsettling. Maybe all witches who weren’t half human made sounds like this, though Harvey certainly hadn’t noticed Hilda Spellman growling.

“And I can be on the bed with you instead of the floor now,” Nick remarked, with approval. 

On the bed with you, considering Harvey’s recent spirited attempts to leave the bed, was a funny way to characterize this situation. But okay, Nick Scratch, you get a pass. Just for tonight.

Though Harvey did have questions.

Harvey frowned. “Why would you be on the floor?”

“I did think it was strange,” mused Nick. “But I understand that you’re shy. You want to wait, you said.”

Harvey was struck with another pang of extreme pity for this unknown mortal. Imagine someone shy having to deal with Mr No Boundaries. Jesus Weird Situations Christ.

“It is so important to listen when people say things like that,” Harvey said urgently, for this piteous stranger’s sake. “Because of--”

“Boundaries. Consent,” Nick mumbled wearily, as though saying his times tables. “I did listen. I paid very careful attention. I remember every word you ever said to me.” 

Good job, tiny mortal dude, thought Harvey. Just keep saying it over and over again, Harry my guy!

Nick made a sound that was partly sleepy and partly questing, as though he wanted reassurance. Harvey patted his shoulder.

Maybe… this was a platonic thing? 

Maybe not entirely, given the way witches seemed to be. But if Nick was mostly in search of a friend, and comfort, then that was okay. And maybe being a witch meant things seemed always a bit… well. 

In the morning, everything would be very embarrassing, obviously, but also—maybe it would be funny, like when Carl got wasted and did that thing with the ping-pong balls everyone talked about for months? 

They could be friends. And go out on double dates. And he would see Sabrina more. And nobody would be mad at anyone. That could be nice.

Maybe this latest weird development in Harvey’s life wasn’t too bad. 

Nick appeared to be dozing, grip still tight on Harvey's shirt. Occasionally he made another distressed sound, and Harvey patted him some more, and Nick's sounds went gentler, dreamy and soothed. It was warm. Harvey was halfway to falling asleep himself when Nick jerked awake, lifting his head and looking around a little wildly. Then his dark eyes caught on Harvey, and he relaxed. 

"Hey, Harry," Nick said, soft. "You're here."

"Still no," said Harvey. 

“Oh, Satan,” Nick sighed, and slid his face into the warm space between Harvey's jaw and the pillow. He rubbed his cheek against Harvey's jaw, almost like a cat, the beginnings of where Nick needed to shave catching against Harvey's skin.

'Oh, Satan' was not among the top _ten thousand_ things Harvey had ever wanted to hear in bed, but here they were. He had more pressing concerns, such as the way Nick was starting to move against him. His platonic theory was beginning to look a little wobbly. He patted Nick again, helplessly. Nick gave another sigh, a sound that seemed to stretch and curl and hum underneath your skin.

“I’d love to fuck you,” murmured Nick Scratch. “Or… you could fuck me. I’d let you.” A pause followed, which Nick apparently spent deep in thought and Harvey endured while trying not to panic. 

“I—” Harvey began. "Uh!"

“I’d beg you to,” whispered Nick, teeth closing briefly down on his ear.

“Wow, dude!” said Harvey, an uncomfortable laugh surprised out of him. “You are _so drunk_.”

This would all be hilarious in the morning, Harvey told himself firmly. 

It wasn’t really hilarious right now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before. The morning after. The plot arrives!

“Nicholas _Scratch_ ,” said Harvey, “—and I can’t stress enough how weird it is to say these words, but if you get handsy I’m leaving the bed!”

He tried to lever himself up from the pillows, but Nick made a distraught sound and was actually pretty difficult to shift. Nick wasn’t as tall as Harvey, but there was no escaping the fact he was very muscular, and muscles were heavy.

Plus Nick wasn’t letting go of his shirt, and was in fact burrowing his face in against it.

“No, no, no,” Nick said into his neck. “Don’t be mad. I won’t talk about it anymore. I didn’t before, did I? I know sex upsets you.”

“Um—I—what—no, it doesn’t,” mumbled Harvey. 

He used to be very enthusiastic about the topic back when he thought he and Sabrina would experience it for the first time together. Whenever she was ready. Only then she’d met Nick, and she hadn’t wanted Harvey anymore. Now Harvey thought he could be enthusiastic about the prospect with Roz. This was complicated by the fact Roz had done it before and would know if Harvey got things wrong, and the way the shadow of how Sabrina hadn’t felt was hanging over Harvey always. Still, he was—he was hoping to be able to look forward to it again, some day. If he could get Roz to love him, maybe he wouldn’t let her down. He wanted, so badly, to please her.

But this wasn’t about him, Harvey reminded himself. That was a consolation. This poor guy Harry had even worse problems than Harvey did.

As was made even clearer a moment later when Nick said, dreamily: “It’s very strange, how much I think about sleeping with you. Given your insistence on doing stupid things, and your dangerous and ill-considered lack of experience, I can’t imagine you’ll be any good in bed.”

Harvey rolled his eyes so hard it was almost painful.

“Wow, Scratch, you silver-tongued devil,” grumbled Harvey. “How do you ever get any play at all, that’s what I want to know!”

Harvey was actually impressed by how well he was dealing with this. Had he ever pictured anything of this nature happening to him—and he sincerely never had—he would’ve thought he’d have a panic attack or choke on his own tongue.

Yes, a warlock had shown up at his house and begun making shocking remarks and even more shocking passes, but this wasn’t anything close to what Harvey feared most: the deathlike horror of that waiting, all-consuming yet indifferent evil in the mines. The underlying motive for this wild behavior, amazingly but also rather obviously, was affection. Harvey didn’t have a lot of that in his life—far less, now that Tommy and Sabrina were gone. But he remembered how it felt, enough to miss it now it was gone. Enough so that he couldn’t turn it away, even when it came to the wrong door.

“If you like the guy, wanting to be… um, intimate… isn’t strange,” said Harvey.

Maybe he got why it seemed strange to witches. They might be raised completely without tenderness. Not Sabrina, obviously. Harvey remembered wanting Hilda Spellman to adopt him and Tommy too, once. Who knew what happened to witches in that academy of theirs, under the ever-watchful eye of the darkness in the mines. Maybe they were even more badly off for warmth than Harvey.

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t be strange to you, because you’re so weird,” said Nick, fond. “My strange little love.” 

“The endearments are as lousy as the come-ons,” Harvey let him know. “Maybe if you didn’t insult this guy every time you open your mouth, you’d be getting somewhere.”

Nick made a happy refusing sound, though Harvey didn’t know if the refusing was about the idea of getting somewhere, or if Nick was just determined to insult poor Harry forever. Whichever it was, the outlook didn’t seem promising.

At least Nick no longer seemed distressed. Harvey hummed in response, soothing.

“Anyway, I have every confidence Sabrina will be good in bed,” Nick said, sounding cheered.

“Me too, but I don’t wanna talk about it!” snapped Harvey.

Or think about it. Ever again. He couldn’t. He belonged to Roz now.

He’d got Nick to cut it out with the mistaken-identity gay seduction attempts. Now when he told Roz about this, she wouldn’t be mad at him. She’d be confused and surprised, but join the club, Roz!

And Roz was smarter than him, which he’d always loved. She’d explain these mysterious events to him, so Harvey would get it and wouldn’t mess up.

“Is it… like your house?” Nick asked, testing. 

The thought of Roz, his last safe harbor in a world turned dangerous and terrifying, was calming. Nick didn’t have a Roz, someone who could explain things to you so you didn’t mess up. Harvey should try to help Nick work this out.

It was difficult to do, when Nick was being inexplicable.

Harvey frowned. “Is wanting to sleep with someone who’ll be lousy in bed like… a house?” 

“Well, yes,” said Nick. “Your house is vile and terrible. But I like it, because you’re here.”

Is that touching, Harvey wondered, or is it both offensive and disturbing?

Maybe it was all three.

“Oh,” said Harvey, lost. “I guess so…?”

Nick nodded. “I think I get it.”

Harvey snorted. “I wish I did.”

“You don’t get much, do you?” Nick asked, faintly mocking.

Harvey sighed and rolled away. “Dude, can you just—not--”

Rolling away proved entirely useless, as Nick only rolled with him, apparently regarding rolling as an opportunity to snuggle. Harvey was never, ever going to let him hear the end of this.

“I don’t care,” Nick informed him. “I don’t care that you’re stupid, and I don’t care that you hate me, and I don’t care that you’re not into sex, and I don’t care that this is a horrible death house. I’m staying forever. You can just get used to it.”

At a certain point, drunk ramblings turned into total nonsense, Harvey decided. 

“How much have you had to drink, exactly?” he wanted to know.

“Fifty… nine?” Nick mumbled, as though uncertain. 

“Glasses?” Harvey demanded. “Of what!”

“Bottles…?” said Nick.

“Oh my God,” said Harvey, and Nick had the gall to look scandalized, as though he wasn’t currently a one-warlock equivalent of a brewery. “Yeah, that stops right now,” Harvey ordered.

“No drinking _and_ no sex?” Nick queried. “Can I still read books!”

“Um…” said Harvey. “Sure. Do you… like reading?”

“Can you just not,” mumbled Nick, an echo of Harvey’s own words blurred by drowsiness. 

Even half asleep, Nick was apparently set on making fun of him. But sleep should be encouraged. Harvey made an assenting sound, as if to say he wouldn’t, and patted Nick’s back some more, since Nick seemed to like that. When Harvey put his arm around Nick’s neck, Nick sighed and tucked his face into the crook of Harvey’s elbow.

After some time, Nick’s breathing evened out, soft and regular. Harvey wasn’t feeling especially sleepy, after having to negotiate for his mistaken-identity virtue and all, so he carefully disentangled himself and scooped up his sketchbook from the floor. 

He wasn’t sure what to draw and only ended up making vague meaningless scribbles on the paper. Roz couldn’t see his pictures any longer. If he tried to draw Sabrina, he only saw her hurt face. Harvey used to believe he would never hurt her.

So little made sense, these days. 

Curled up like a black comma on Harvey’s plaid bedspread, his weird magic guest made a wounded sound. Harvey reached for him, but before he connected Nick’s head jerked up again. 

Harvey didn’t know why Nick kept waking up looking so scared.

“He’s in my dreams,” Nick panted. 

“Who?” Harvey asked. 

Nick shook his head, and pressed his face down against the pillow. Then he made an imperious gesture, reaching across the blankets for Harvey.

“When you’re there, he’s not as close,” said Nick. “Don’t go.”

“I didn’t go anywhere,” said Harvey steadily. “I told you I wouldn’t and I didn’t. I wouldn’t break my word.”

This seemed to appease Nick.

“Oh. You’re a good mortal,” murmured Nick. “When you’re not being a little bitch.”

“Nicholas Scratch!” exclaimed Harvey. “That’s disrespectful to women.”

Nick lifted his head from the pillow and blinked hard, several times. “It isn’t. I wouldn’t be disrespectful to women. _You_ , on the other hand…”

“Yes, yes,” said Harvey. “Message received. I’m glad you’re feeling more normal.”

Nick was still a long way from normal, as he’d crept across the blankets and was now clinging again, like a Goth koala. 

“Why are you far?” Nick mumbled. “Don’t be far.”

“Hush, you huge weirdo,” said Harvey. “I’m right here.”

“You’re never _close enough_ ,” Nick complained, fussing, as though this was a personal failing on Harvey’s part.

He pulled Harvey down onto the pillows. Harvey fell back, resigned at this point, and when Nick hovered over him as though not sure what to do with him now that he had him, Harvey put his arms around Nick and rubbed his back, trying to say silently: settle, for God’s sake.

Nick made a highly approving sound, burying his face in Harvey’s throat and murmuring something that Harvey couldn’t make out. It was undoubtedly something weird and horrifying, but it sounded sweet. 

Tentatively, Harvey stroked his hair. Wasn’t that soothing? Nick made another approving murmur, so it must be. 

Wait! Maybe not.

Harvey hastily stopped stroking his hair. Nick made a low rumbling noise, between a growl and a whine, reverberating in his chest in a way that didn’t sound entirely human. Harvey resumed stroking his hair to make it stop. Nick nipped the side of Harvey’s jaw in a way that was clearly intended to be playful, but… 

Oh God, Harvey thought. Here we go again.

Nick was trying to… kiss him, Harvey thought, no longer able to deny it considering the evidence. He kept sliding his lips, slow, from pressing against Harvey’s jaw to the corner of Harvey’s mouth. Where they kept almost connecting, with a faint bright feeling like a spark that might catch fire. 

Harvey turned his face away every time. Nick didn’t seem to be getting the hint. He would just make a sad sound, as if he thought gravity or nature was conspiring against him, and try again with a low murmur, inquisitive and hopeful, that made something inside Harvey echo as if he had an answer.

“Hey,” said Harvey. “Come on. Nick. No.”

At the ‘No’ Nick did stop trying, though he muttered a vexed “ _Mortals_ ,” into Harvey’s ear.

“I know, we’re the worst,” said Harvey. “It’s nothing but asking to be called by our names, and thinking we get to make our own decisions, and refusing to make out with people who are blind drunk. Sorry.”

His ‘sorry’ was highly ironic, but drunks were not big on irony. Nick sighed, soft and accepting.

“It’s all right. This is nice, too.” 

He was nuzzling Harvey’s throat, their legs tangled together, Nick’s warm breath running down into the small shivery space between the fabric of Harvey’s shirt and his skin. It wasn’t—not nice? 

Which was natural. Being close to someone, who seemed as if they wanted to be close to you…. It felt a certain way. Nice. But it wasn’t like with Sabrina, or with Roz. It wasn’t real. 

“Hey, Nick,” Harvey murmured. “If I don’t do anything senseless and cruel like moving literally five inches away to draw something. If I stay where I am, do you think you can get to sleep again?”

“Mmm,” said Nick.

“Taking that as a yes.”

Harvey pulled back so he could reach to turn the light off. When Nick made a low protesting sound, Harvey turned his head with the light behind him, and found Nick slightly wide-eyed.

“I will be right back!” Harvey told him, slightly impatient.

“Oh,” said Nick, in an awed voice. “You’re _beautiful_ beautiful.”

“You are so drunk you’re actively hallucinating, dude,” said Harvey, turning out the light and putting his arm around Nick again. “Might want to be concerned about that.”  
\--  
Harvey had assumed the morning after would be a time of yelling, recriminations and deep embarrassment, but it was peaceful. 

Harvey woke slowly, warm and with sunlight in his eyes, then blinked with confusion at the dark curly head on the pillow beside his. Apparently Nick was a late riser. 

Last night came flooding back, in detail. Wow, last night had been weird.

Harvey rubbed his face, then sighed and rolled off the bed. Sleeping that tangled up with someone else was sweaty. He’d grab a shower and clear his head, and deal with the weirdness later. 

Nick asleep looked less mean than Nick awake. Still a bit mean, though.

Harvey returned to his room to find Nick still sleeping. He then found fresh jeans and looked around for a clean shirt.

At this extremely inopportune moment, Nick opened his eyes. They were lazily hooded until they rested on Harvey. At which point his eyes flew all the way open, white rings going all around the dark irises.

“What happened last night!”

Nick snatched for the blanket as if he was a Victorian maiden who wished to cover his nightgown, then squinted down at his black clothes. Then back up at Harvey. He still looked as though he had dark suspicions, but he was less certain about what said dark suspicions might be.

“Nothing!” exclaimed Harvey. He wished to be very clear on that matter. 

He grabbed for a T-shirt, then one of the winter sweaters Tommy had passed down to him. The sweater was thick and comforting grey wool. Harvey tried not to wear it too often and lose the lingering impression of his brother, but he wanted the sweater right now. 

Once he had it on, he plucked at the long sleeves and tried to come up with an explanation that made sense.

“So…” he said. “You got really drunk? Which I guess you can tell.”

Nick, after a moment’s consideration, nodded. Then he winced. Harvey had seen hangovers on his dad a hundred times. They didn’t look pleasant.

“And you—I guess you can tell this also—got the wrong house?” Harvey proceeded. 

“Huh,” said Nick.

“Who is Harry?” asked Harvey, delicately.

Last night had been a long night, and Harvey had kind of got used to drunk Nick, who was half asleep and not entirely in control of his faculties. Having the real Nick back was unsettling in its sheer contrast. This Nick, despite rumpled clothes and bed hair curling out of control, was controlled in every aspect. Even his jaw was held tight. 

He was also bristling with barely concealed fury. It was awful even being in the same room with someone who seemed to dislike Harvey so much.

“Isn’t that your name?” asked Nick, arching an eyebrow. Everything he did seemed to subtly mock Harvey. Or not that subtly.

“No it isn’t!” said Harvey.

Nick didn’t have to tell him, if it was personal, but there was no need to make fun.

Nick smirked. “I get all the boring mortal names for boring mortals muddled, I suppose. Then what happened?”

Harvey felt severely tried.

“I don’t exactly know how to put this,” said Harvey. “But you kind of got amorous, buddy!”

Nick yawned. “Is that all? I’ve done worse.”

“What!” said Harvey.

He gave Harvey a once-over. It was very different from the way he’d looked at him last night. This was like someone evaluating a piece of meat, contemptuous distance even in its mild interest. It was horrible. Harvey turned his face away.

“Of course,” Nick drawled, “I usually do _considerably_ better.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Harvey snapped. “You’re dating Sabrina. So, listen, obviously—as I said—nothing happened. You were drunk and upset, you went to the wrong house, I got you water and let you lie down.” 

“Nothing to get worked up about, then,” said Nick. “Sad it offended your delicate mortal sensibilities, but, oh well, actually I don’t care.”

“It was all a bit of a shock,” Harvey informed him sternly. “I didn’t know you were—bisexual—or pansexual—or um, if you don’t like labels, whichever—”

Nick’s icy façade seemed to crack slightly with confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He frowned. “I can’t cook.”

Harvey stared into a dark abyss that was the possibility of having to explain words he didn’t entirely understand to witches.

“Never mind!” he said. “Doesn’t matter. Please don’t ask. Anyway, I support you! Would you, um—like breakfast?”

Nick glared at him. “No.”

Harvey wasn’t sure why Nick acted as though breakfast was personally offensive.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes,” snapped Nick, then looked even more annoyed.

“Okay,” Harvey said, soft. “And… you said you were expelled.”

Nick winced again. “Did I.” His voice was flat. 

“Where will you go?” Harvey asked, trying to sound as gentle as he could.

“Wherever I want,” Nick said. “I have the world on a string. I’m the best conjurer since Edward Spellman. My talents are highly in demand, whether I complete my training or not. My parents left me plenty of money. And many people find me handsome and charming and are extremely eager to be with me, so it’s really a question of making a choice. Too many choices, that’s my problem.”

“Oh no,” Harvey murmured. “Your parents are dead?”

Nick gave him an unpleasant look, as though Harvey wasn’t meant to have noticed the only important part in Nick’s whole long bragging speech.

“My mom’s dead too,” Harvey said in a small voice. 

“Isn’t that what mortals are for?” Nick asked, cold. “Dying?”

Harvey controlled himself with an effort. You couldn’t punch people with hangovers in the face. He stalked off to get the coffee. As revenge, he didn’t ask if Nick wanted cream or sugar. He just brought it back to Nick black.

He was angry enough that he didn’t close his bedroom door all the way, which was total foolishness with his dad in the house and a witch in his bed. As he carried the coffee back down the passage from his kitchen to his room, he saw Nick through the ajar door. Nick was hitting his forehead repeatedly against his hands, clenched together in fists on his knees.

So Nick was embarrassed. And he was—what, covering up the embarrassment by being a huge jerk?

Harvey didn’t know what Nick’s excuse was for being a jerk all the rest of the time. But he tapped on the door, pretending that he hadn’t seen, and he sat down on the carpet when he offered up the cup. Sometimes people didn’t like it, when he was looming over them.

“Here,” said Harvey, softer than he’d intended. “I hope it’s okay.”

Nick took the cup in silence, which was a minor miracle. 

After he drank, he said gruffly: “Yeah. Thanks,” which was a second minor miracle. 

Encouraged, Harvey offered: “You can stay here, if you want. While you work out what to do.”

“No,” Nick said. “I’d better go back to the Academy.”

“But, um,” said Harvey, “… you’re expelled? You said that.”

“Yes,” Nick answered through his teeth. “I remember.”

“Doesn’t being expelled mean you can’t go back?”

“I want to get my things,” snapped Nick. “I have books there I require. Many books.”

“Okay, nerd,” said Harvey, amused.

The black look Nick gave him then made Harvey want to flee his home. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the nicest thing to call someone, but Nick didn’t need to look at Harvey as if he hated him. 

“Sorry,” said Harvey. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Nick continued to glare at him with open loathing. “I’m going to the bar.”

“Oh no, you are not,” said Harvey. “Bad idea. You know what? I’m calling Sabrina to come get you.”

“Don’t do that!”

“Well, I know you two had a fight, but you can make up,” Harvey encouraged. “Then you’ll feel better and—this bit’s important—stop drinking. You can’t spend your whole life drunk.”

Nick’s gaze went from hostile to merely unfriendly.

“Watch me,” he answered, in a slightly subdued voice.

“No,” said Harvey. “Who knows whose house you’ll wind up at next!” 

He tried calling Sabrina, but she didn’t answer. Harvey frowned at the phone. 

“Okay,” he decided. “I’ll drive you to the Academy, you get your things, then I’ll take you to Sabrina. She’ll want to know you’re okay.”

“I can teleport,” muttered Nick.

“That’s awesome, and I mean that,” Harvey told him. “But people shouldn’t even drive when they’re super hung over, let alone teleport. Let’s go.”

Nick must secretly have wanted to be taken to Sabrina, because he went.

They drove down the winding road, Harvey obeying Nick’s brief directions, until they reached a ghost-grey building which looked more like a tomb than a school. Nick clearly loved his school, given his epic drunk breakdown over getting expelled, so Harvey didn’t comment on its spooky graveyard aspect.

“Gehenna,” Harvey murmured, reading the words over the door. “What does that mean?”

“It’s the name of a cursed place,” Nick said distantly. “The destination of the wicked. Where kings sacrifice children.”

Harvey didn’t like to think of Sabrina anywhere like that. But she’d chosen this. Harvey glanced over at Nick, a dark brooding presence on the passenger side of the pick-up. Sabrina had chosen _him_.

“Which are you?” Harvey asked. “One of the wicked, or one of the sacrificed children?”

Nick’s mouth tilted toward a smirk. “Can’t I be both?”

“Are the doors of Invisible Academy always open?” 

Nick’s almost-smirk died. “No.”

He climbed out of the pick-up, face still serious, moving with barely leashed urgency. The trees overhead whispered a warning to the grey sky. Harvey grabbed his rifle and followed Nick. The doors of the Academy weren’t propped open. They were hanging open, and marked with a stain.

“What is that on the door?” Harvey asked, his voice faint.

“Blood,” answered Nick curtly.

Harvey wasn’t surprised. Somewhere in the darkest part of his heart where his last memory of Tommy lived, he’d known that already.

Past the bloodstained door, flowing down the stone steps like winter wind, were two voices. A boy’s voice and a girl’s, speaking in cool professional tones.

The girl said: “We need to question our captives.”

That was not a normal business discussion! Harvey exchanged alarmed glances with Nick.

“We need to find out more about that girl, and what she can do,” agreed the boy’s voice, intent in a way that made Harvey’s flesh creep. 

“I saw what you let her do. You let her--”

“I didn’t let her do anything. She had Uziel down on his knees. If it hadn’t been for that disgusting witch she called her aunt shouting for her to see to the sneak who sounded the alarm, I don’t know what else she would have done. Did you notice her eyes? Those weren’t witch powers! She’s an unholy abomination in a tiny shrill-voiced package.”

“Brina,” whispered Harvey, starting toward the door, just as Nick hissed: “Spellman,” and charged forward.

Nick’s charge was halted by his apparent need to lift his arm as if he was gonna do the soccer-mom arm-save, and give Harvey a dark side-eye.

“Go home, mortal,” he commanded. “This is witch business.”

Right. Apparently Nick was crazy.

“No, I won’t be doing that,” Harvey explained. “If Sabrina is in trouble, I have to go to her.”

These people had taken captives. Was Sabrina one of the captives? Or one of her aunts? They had to do something. They had to fight.

“Why?” Nick snarled. “You abandoned her once. You picked the mortals. It didn’t matter what she felt about it. You were the one who chose to go. So you can just _stay gone_.”

“That isn’t what happened,” Harvey said, amazed. “You don’t know what happened. You don’t know me. Nobody who knows me would ever think I could abandon Sabrina.”

Harvey didn’t see why Nick couldn’t wait to be a dick until the emergency was over. Nick seemed unconvinced by this obvious truth, and ready to argue viciously back, when they were interrupted. 

One of the cool voices behind the bloodstained door said: “Did you hear something?”

Nick froze. Harvey grabbed Nick’s wrist, so Nick wouldn’t run off somewhere without him, and they watched as a boy and a girl, pale-haired and wearing clothes like Jehovah’s Witnesses, came down the steps. There were dead leaves on the stone steps, but somehow these people’s feet didn’t disturb the leaves. And there was something about their eyes. They were so cold, colder than the depths of winter. 

Harvey felt as though he’d spotted someone at a family reunion. It was familiarity, combined with a sinking sensation. Like he couldn’t place the faces or the connection between them, but he was sure he didn’t like these people.

Possibly it was just that the boy was wearing a skinny tie. Harvey didn’t trust people who wore skinny ties. 

He was still trying to work it out when he was distracted by a voice at his side. 

“Let go of me, witch-hunter,” snarled Nick. “You’ll pay for every moment you hold me captive. In blood.”

Harvey turned to Nick in blank bewilderment, his grip on Nick’s wrist going slack. Nick gave a small, deliberate shake of the head. The dark focus of his gaze was intense enough that Harvey was aware he was being signaled, though not why. He hesitated.

Something about Nick’s expression, or careful lack thereof, made Harvey think of another dangerous moment. The first time they’d met, evil ghosts had attacked, and Nick had worn the same look. Wheels had visibly turned behind those sharp dark eyes as he calculated their odds, asked terse questions, and murmured his spells. Harvey’d been aware, even then: this guy is smart.

Harvey followed Nick’s lead. He kept hold of Nick’s wrist, and faced the strangers.

“Oh look,” said the girl with the blond pageboy hairdo. “It’s a baby.”

Harvey looked around with some interest, but he didn’t see a baby. Just the woods and the church, and the fixed pallid eyes of these strange people, oddly trained on him.

Awkward. Harvey coughed. “I’m, uh, not a baby?” 

“And he’s taken a witch captive,” continued the girl. “To bring to us! That is adorable. What a good little witch-hunter.”

The way she purred the last word was bloodlessly obscene.

The blond guy stepped up to Harvey, and Harvey moved sharply to get in front of Nick, which left the blond guy free to capture Harvey’s face between his hands. His touch caused a sensation like pins and needles, but colder. Icy as the winter in these people’s eyes, and sinking irrevocably into Harvey’s bones.

Or perhaps Harvey was just weirded out by this dude’s behavior.

“Oh, I see,” murmured the blond guy. “Diluted, polluted by mortality, but there’s something…”

“Wow to the sudden turn my life has taken where I have to keep telling dudes not to touch me inappropriately!” said Harvey. “Wow, no!”

“I thought those left on earth had been fatally corrupted, and what should be holy light obscured past the point of redemption,” mused the girl. “But see how he shines.”

Harvey gave her a disappointed look for being so incredibly freaky. 

“I am Jerathmiel,” announced—Jerathmiel, apparently. He had a creepy Jehovah’s Witness name to go with his evil Jehovah’s Witness vibes. “And you are one of the host.”

Oh good, everyone talked like they were in a cult. That wasn’t disturbing or anything. Not at all. 

“Be welcome among us,” said the girl.

Which might have been reassuring, except that immediately afterward the girl reached for Nick, her hand a pearly-nailed claw.

She said, her voice shockingly casual: “What will we do with the filth?”

Jerathmiel surged forward in Nick’s direction. Something about the way he moved had hideous, meticulous purpose. 

So Harvey shoved him. 

“Hey! Back off,” Harvey snapped. “My captive. Not yours.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh my god, witch-hunter plot? With thanks to my lovely and inspiring commenters!

The freaky Jehovah’s Witness girl was called Theoda. The hits just kept coming. 

“It’s every soldier’s right to be proud of his first capture,” she said, petting Harvey’s hair as if Harvey was a toddler. 

But she let Harvey stand between them and Nick, so it was worth allowing her do that. 

Jerathmiel the creep seemed dissatisfied, but was persuaded when Theoda suggested: “We should go check in on this boy’s family, see if the rest have any promise.”

Nick snorted softly behind Harvey, which was just suicidal. Harvey cleared his throat to cover the sound. 

“Don’t—don’t hurt my dad, okay,” said Harvey, when the pair turned to look at him.

“No, dear,” said Theoda. “You’re all right now. You’re with us now. And your father will be with us, too, if he be righteous. In the meantime, let’s put this witch down with the others.”

Harvey watched in silent mystification as Theoda had to make something called a deconsecrating path for Nick. Then she led Harvey and Nick down steps hewn in rough stone to some crypts, in the basement of a church. 

The crypt for the dead was now a prison for those left still alive.

It took Harvey several moments to realize what he was seeing: carved stone effigies, a packed earth floor, and living faces behind rusty bars. Witches, captured in a row like wild animals and tied up like prisoners in medieval times. The Jehovah’s wackos had set up an actual makeshift dungeon in there. Among the rows of watchful faces behind bars, Harvey saw someone he recognized.

A girl who, even bound and sitting on the bare earth, held her head like a queen. She regarded Harvey with cool amber eyes, dramatically outlined, and gave no sign of recognition herself.  
Theoda opened the prison door for Nick to pass through and join the others. She gestured for Harvey to bring him along. Harvey did no such thing.

Nick shot Harvey a single scathing glance and threw himself forward, stumbling slightly and deliberately as though Harvey had shoved him. Theoda nodded approvingly at Harvey, then held out a piece of strangely gilded rope to him.

It was like when the other weirdly religious people shoved pamphlets at you. Harvey always reflexively took the pamphlets, to be polite, then found himself in awkward situations listening to people talk about accepting personal saviors. Now he was holding some rope, and it felt creepy in his hands. Actually, it felt creepy-crawly, as though the oddly bright fibers in the rope were alive, twisting and reaching along the tiny lines of his palms.

“Tie his wrists,” said Theoda.

“I don’t—” began Harvey.

Nick was already holding his hands up, fingers curled, wrists pressed together. He nodded at Harvey. Harvey shook his head.

“It won’t be the first time someone’s tied me up, farm boy,” Nick drawled.

“Won’t be the five hundredth time,” Prudence muttered from the dungeon floor.

Harvey tried to divide his traumatized look between Nick and Prudence. He was almost instantly distracted by Theoda moving forward, fast and cold as a snake, and striking Nick across the face.

“How dare you speak that way to one of the elect!”

The blow had been hard enough to split Nick’s lip, but it had an effect a blow shouldn’t have had. The mark on Nick’s face looked like a burn. The drops of blood welling on his lip smoked.

“Hey—” Harvey began. Nick threw him another black look, then fixed his eyes on Theoda.

“It’s not the first time someone’s done that, either,” he said, licked a drop of smoking blood off his lip, and winked at her. “I like it. Go again.”

Theoda gave a thin scream of outrage, raised her hand, then dropped her hand again. Nick grinned. Harvey wouldn’t have expected to be on the side of the person hurling unsettling sexual innuendoes, but he was.

No matter what someone said, you shouldn’t hit them. Not if they were vulnerable in some way. Not if they were your prisoner. Or if they were your kid. 

“This is why people gag you, Nicky,” Prudence said, in a much lower voice. “Pipe down!”

“Is he one of your filthy lovers?” Theoda asked. “I know what you people are like. Which will it be, you vile slut, him or one of your Weird Sisters?”

There was a girl with black hair and a girl with red hair, on either side of Prudence. They must be her sisters. Prudence’s hands were tied, but they were leaning into her, and she was leaning against them, as though she could put her arms around them.

Prudence wasn’t so bad, Harvey thought.

“Go ahead and kill him,” Prudence replied promptly. “Sorry, Nicky.”

Nick shrugged. Theoda looked as though she was considering it. Harvey stepped forward to intervene.

“There’s no need for you to do anything!” he told Theoda hurriedly. “I’ll, uh, I’ll do it.”

He stepped forward, so he was almost behind the bars himself, and looped the shining twine around Nick’s wrists. When Nick let a breath slide out between locked teeth, Harvey glanced up into dark eyes. 

“Okay?” he asked, tensely.

If Nick wasn’t okay, Harvey couldn’t—

“Okay,” said Nick.

Harvey knotted the rope together. The knot went gold and then dark.

“I knew you could do it,” murmured Theoda.

“Well, sure,” said Harvey. “My brother taught me to tie my shoelaces when I was six.”

The redheaded sister laughed. “It’s like it’s the first time he’s tied someone up.”

“Er… yes?” said Harvey. “Obviously it is?”

“He has no social life at all,” Prudence whispered to her sisters, in an explanatory fashion.

Witches were very rude, except the Spellmans. Apparently Prudence could tell just by looking at him. 

“The virtuous are more precious than rubies,” said Theoda, patting Harvey’s arm.

Harvey wished Theoda would quit making Harvey be on the side of the mean kinkster kids. Theoda swung the barred door closed on Nick, so all the witches were caged now.

“Come,” she told Harvey. “I will find you a bed. My fellow soldiers of the Lord and I will abide here until we track down the abomination to its lair.”

By ‘abomination’ they meant Brina. They wanted to track down Brina, and do worse than cage her. Harvey was definitely on the side of the mean kinkster kids.

“You’re, um, super kind,” Harvey said, super lying. “But--Couldn’t I stay here? I can guard them. I want to be useful.”

He wasn’t lying. He did want to be useful, just not to these awful witch-hunters.

“That’s not necessary, but you are a sweet lad,” said Theoda. “Stay here a little, then, while I find you a chamber and tell the tidings of your arrival.”

Theoda left him, which was a relief. She left him with three dozen witches silently observing him from behind dungeon bars, which wasn’t much of a relief at all.

It was time to try and make friends with the witches. Harvey picked the most likely suspect.

“Hi, Prudence,” Harvey said in a tiny voice.

He gave her a little wave. Prudence rolled her eyes and surrendered her attempt to stare indifferently through him. 

“Hello there, witch-hunter. Am I to take it you’ve joined up with this heavenly army?”

“No!” Harvey exclaimed. “I was just taking Nick home from my place and we walked into this mess.” 

He realized what he’d said an instant after he said it. The wild cackle from the Weird Sisters helped clue him in. 

“Oh, Nicky, really?” Prudence turned to Nick, arching an eyebrow. “At a time like this! You’re obsessed. It’s frankly sad.”

Nick was leaning back against the dungeon wall, regarding them all with a stony expression.

“Thanks for taking this special dungeon-bound time to be a bitch,” said Nick. “I’m not anything. And he’s just leaving.”

“No, I’m not,” argued Harvey. 

“Sabrina didn’t train him at all, did she?” whispered the black-haired girl beside Prudence.

Prudence made an expressive gesture, dark sharp nails flashing. “Just let him run perfectly wild. And has Nick tried to remedy the situation? No! I call it irresponsible. Tie him up and give him one good lashing, and he wouldn’t be like this.”

“Uh…” said Harvey. “You’re right there. I would be even more angry! And I am currently very angry. Since some freaks came to my town and attacked my friend and hurt her cousin and put kids in cages. We have to stop them. I wanna fight. I wanna help.”

For some reason, this made Nick lunge toward the bars, connecting against them with a crash, like a wild animal who would rip Harvey’s throat out if he could get to him.

“This is witch business, so _get out_!” Nick snarled. “You’re a witch-hunter!”

“Uh-huh,” said Harvey, glaring. “And guess what you are. Not the boss of me!”

It wasn’t nice to take that tone when Harvey was obviously trying to help. Nick was the most ungrateful person in the world, and horrible. He thought Harvey was useless, even though it was obvious Harvey must be able to do something. If only someone would let him.

Help came from an unlikely quarter. Mean girl Prudence’s eyes narrowed, thoughtful and shining like a cat’s in the dark. 

“Now, now, don’t be hasty, Nick,” murmured Prudence. “This witch-hunter is the only one of us not currently behind bars. And if the other hunters trust him, perhaps we can use that.”

“Yeah!” said Harvey.

“No,” snapped Nick.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion and I don’t want it, Nicholas,” said Prudence, who Harvey decided was awesome. “I am getting my sisters out of this!”

Prudence understood him. She believed he could help. She’d let him try. He smiled at her, hopeful. She gave him a small sneer, not as emphatic as the last time she’d sneered at him, which seemed like a good sign.

“Your sisters?” Nick repeated. “Do you think he’d want to help them, if he knew—”

Prudence held up a finger. It was a librarian’s gesture for quiet, made with finger bearing a dramatically painted and sharpened nail. Air seemed to spin in a tiny vortex around said nail, cutting off all the noise in the cell. Like she had sound itself wrapped around her finger.

“Before you speak again, I’d think very carefully, Nicky,” she whispered into the terrible sucking, echoing silence, “about where your loyalties lie.”

Nick Scratch was silent for a long moment. He and Prudence’s gazes were locked, as if both could read thoughts in the other’s eyes.

“With Sabrina,” Nick answered eventually. “And with my coven.”

“Sabrina’s the one the hunters are after now,” said Prudence. “The hunters came in the night. Ambrose Spellman had slipped free of his prison, but—he heard the noises, and he came back for us. He fought for us and the witch-hunters tried to slay him. The other Spellmans, Hilda and Sabrina, they came to find him. These witch-hunters are angels. Not celestially connected like in the old stories. Actual angels. But Sabrina did something that scared them all. I didn’t see it, but it has every one of those angelic hunters scared. If she hadn’t had to help her aunt with Ambrose, I don’t know what would have happened. They only kept us alive because they want to find out more about this strange witch with her strange power.” 

There was something in Prudence’s voice when she spoke of Ambrose. Maybe, Harvey thought, they were in love? No, wait, did Ambrose have a boyfriend? Witches were very confusing.

One thing was clear. 

“Of course, I have to help Brina.”

“She’s nothing to do with you!” Nick said. “She’s _my_ girlfriend!”

“I’m aware,” said Harvey. “And I’ve known her ten years, and you’ve known her ten minutes. I still love her, obviously—”

“—I _knew_ it!” said Nick.

“—oh Satan help us, there are children present…” said Prudence.

“—as a friend!” Harvey said sternly. “Friends don’t let friends get murdered by witch-hunters.”

“Also you should help us because if Nick dies you two can’t indulge in carnal delights anymore,” said the redheaded girl.

“Er, um,” said Harvey. “That’s not--no. I don’t want to give you guys the wrong idea. So, okay. Nick has, like, a mortal boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” the girl told him, her bright eyes darting between them. “We know.”

“—who is not me—” said Harvey. 

God, what a weird time he was having. 

“I have a girlfriend,” Harvey told them, before remembering that was apparently no barrier to having a boyfriend among the witches. “Uh. I’m heterosexual?”

Widespread confusion.

“Jesus,” said Harvey. “Sorry! All right, look, it was an unfortunate misunderstanding. Which I will now explain. So Nick got expelled which I guess you all know because you go to his school, and he got drunk and mistook my house for his boyfriend’s house, and then absolutely nothing happened except him sleeping it off, after that I brought him here, and now we have to deal with the insane angel witch-hunter cult, who are a bigger problem than Nick’s love life I think? That’s all.” 

Harvey’s explanation was provided a soundtrack by Prudence putting her face down on Nick’s shoulder while making fizzing noises. She appeared to be having hysterics. Well, she’d been put in church jail by mean angels. Anyone would be overcome.

“But who is Nick’s boyfriend?” asked the sister with red hair, sitting in the circle of Prudence’s arm. “He’s never had a boyfriend before, what with being a degenerate trollop.”

That sounded insulting, but the redhead’s tone was simply factual, rather than dripping with contempt the way Theoda’s voice did when she addressed Prudence. Prudence’s fizzing appeared to have a snicker in it.

“Well, I don’t know him,” said Harvey. “I think his name is Harry. Uh, Nick, is he from Riverdale?”

Nick seemed to be occupied staring into a dark abyss and unavailable for comment. Clearly he also thought they should be concentrating on the cult. Harvey tried to catch his eye and convey his sympathy with this point of view, but Nick appeared very focused on the abyss.

The redhead stretched her legs out so they went across Prudence’s knees, ankles resting in Nick’s lap.

“I am available to bring Melvin and indulge in a little of the Dark God’s pitchfork at any time, day or night,” said the redheaded girl. “Sabrina can come if she really must.”

Nick used his bound hands to shove the redhead’s ankles off his lap without looking at her.

“What does the Dark—” Harvey began, then reconsidered his options. “Never mind! Never tell me. Thank you.”

He looked around for the children Prudence had mentioned, wishing to escape this conversation. At the far end of the dungeon, huddled behind the bars, was a cluster of girls who looked about eleven. Prudence’s gaze followed Harvey’s.

“Those are the Academy orphans, brought up in our school before they sign the Book because they have nowhere else. Suffer the little children,” Prudence said. “The hunters said that, in the name of their false god.”

Oh, the witch-hunters were very evil. 

“They were going to cut the powerless orphans down and drag anyone strong enough to give them some sport off to the church to be tortured.” Prudence paused. “I’m not certain why anyone would believe Melvin could put up much of a fight, but there it is.”

A boy in a sweater vest jumped as she spoke. Harvey hadn’t pictured any witches as wearing sweater vests before. Thank God, the witches had nerds! He was sure he could get along better with Melvin than Nick Scratch.

He gave Melvin a hopeful smile. Melvin gave an overwhelmed squeak and tried to hide in his sweater vest. Prudence scoffed.

“Melvin has hidden depths,” muttered the redheaded girl. “And stamina!”

“Thank you, Dorcas, you glorious nightshade of witchkind,” Melvin said in a muffled voice. 

Even the witch nerds didn’t want to hang out with Harvey. But there were kids, so that wasn’t important. Harvey sidled away from the witches’ eyes, either scornful or fearful, toward the far end of the dungeon. The girls cringed away, save one who didn’t. She had black plaits like Wednesday Addams, and she looked as though not cringing was an effort. Harvey crouched down so he was looking up at her.

“Hey,” Harvey said, low, trying not to be scary. “My name’s Harvey. What’s yours?”

“Olivia Ravenhell,” she returned, spine ramrod straight and small hands folded in her lap, clearly trying desperately hard to seem composed.

“I know a song about a girl called Olivia,” offered Harvey. “Will I sing it to you?”

The other witches were occupied discussing Melvin’s stamina, a conversation Harvey didn’t want to be part of. Olivia leaned forward slightly, and so, very quietly and just for her, Harvey sang.

Gradually, the other three girls crept back to the bars. Harvey smiled at them encouragingly.

“Do you know any songs about a girl called Demonia?” asked a girl who looked Olivia’s age, leaning forward eagerly.

“Oh, um, no,” said Harvey. “Sorry. That’s a very unique name. Um! But pretty.”

Demonia patted her dreadlocked hair and blushed. “Thank you.”

“That was a very unique song,” Olivia told Harvey. “Mostly our songs are about the Dark Lord. Do they teach witch-hunters lots of blasphemous songs?”

“Uh,” said Harvey. “The songs are on… the radio…”

“I don’t know that spell,” said Demonia.

Harvey tried to explain radios. The witch orphans stared at him blankly. He realized the Weird Sisters were doing so as well. 

“Is he just going to drone on like this forever,” whispered Agatha.

“Yes,” said Prudence. “I believe so, it is his way.” 

Prudence was very casually insulting for someone who Harvey basically didn’t know at all. But maybe that was her way of bonding with people? She sighed and settled down on the straw, curving her body against the redhead girl’s, and Harvey liked her again.

“Best to get our wicked beauty sleep, Agatha, Dorcas. Ours was not a restful night. We may be killed later, but let us look comely while being eviscerated, otherwise what’s the point?”

Everybody else followed the Weird Sisters’ lead. Nick already appeared to be asleep. The Weird Sisters and Nick were clearly the cool kids of the Academy, which Harvey could pretty much have guessed. Awesome, great, the football captain and cheerleaders of Satan. Harvey found one set of cool kids to be enough. He didn’t know how Sabrina stood going to two schools.

Of course, Sabrina was dating Satan’s football captain, so she was one of the cool kids. She’d always been cool, he thought, but it hadn’t seemed like coolness mattered to her.

Obviously, it did.

Harvey took out his phone and texted Sabrina. There was a lot of information to convey, so he settled for ‘with the witches pls call me.’ He doubted she would. He didn’t know if she checked her phone these days. She didn’t text any of them back anymore, and they’d mostly given up trying. Witches didn’t text, apparently, or have any time for their friends. She was busy with dark revels, and Nicholas Scratch.

But why should Sabrina make time for him, when Harvey was mean to her about magic?

Harvey sighed, then texted Theo a long message about magic emergencies, and to tell Roz. He knew Roz couldn’t really read texts anymore. They were getting her a special phone, but she didn’t have one yet. He left Roz a brief voice message. He tried to think of what to say, but it all tangled up in his throat so all he managed was: “Don’t worry. Love you.”

Theo would explain everything to Roz. Theo was great that way.

A cold hand reached out through the bars, and touched Harvey. He jumped and only just managed to stifle a squawk.

In the gathering dimness, he saw Olivia and Demonia and the others kids’ eyes gleaming, still wide awake.

“Harvey,” said Demonia, shyly. “Will you sing us another song?”

“Oh,” Harvey said. “Oh… oh, sure.”

It was intimidating, in the listening quiet, but he did his best, trying to make his voice as low and soothing as he could. These kids were in cages. They were terrified. He had to do everything he could. He wanted to help. 

Demonia’s hand stayed outside the bars, fingers curled around his sleeve. When she stirred in her sleep she clutched at him, and Harvey took her small cold hand in hers, kissed it, tried to keep her warm.

“Shhh,” Harvey said. “You’ll be all right. I promise.”

Harvey’s sight was now dark-accustomed. He caught a glint of light from a watching eye on the other side of the dungeon, and realized Nick wasn’t asleep at all.

Nobody spoke. Nick didn’t make fun of him. There didn’t seem to be much to say, or anything they could do, but wait in the cold dark the witch-hunters had brought.  
\--  
Harvey woke still in darkness, to the sound of precise footsteps on stone steps, and the scrape of the crypt door opening. He stood hastily, to shield the kids from Theoda’s cold gaze.

“Hello, child,” she said, favoring him with a cool smile he thought she might believe was warm. “Our leader Jerathmiel has requested that you bring one of the witches up to us for questioning about the abomination.”

Theoda tapped her foot against the stone flags.

“Who should we start with?” she mused. “Someone who will break easily, or is there anyone who has particular ties to the abomination? I realize you all defile yourselves with unbridled lusts, but even you sinners have your favorites.”

“I would never date Sabrina, if that’s what you’re saying,” announced Prudence. “I told her so. I would never permit either of my sisters to date her either. It would be a death sentence. She is a disaster.”

Theoda’s eyes traveled over the witches. Her gaze skipped right over Melvin—all right, Harvey understood why people might find it hard to believe Sabrina would go for Melvin—then returned to Nick and the Weird Sisters, in their cool-crowd clique.

“One of the young ones, perhaps,” she said at last, with a tiny shrug.

“No,” said Harvey.

“You think we should insist on an answer about the favorite?” Theoda asked. “Very well. Tell us who it is, witches—and the rest of you will be spared. The favorite will be the one selected for rigorous questioning.”

Agatha and Dorcas’s mouths both opened at once. Harvey realized, with incredulous horror, that they were about to turn in Nick without hesitation.

Someone else got there first.

Nick, head flung back and a wild light in his face, said: “ _I_ ’m Sabrina Spellman’s guy.” 

Theoda’s chill grey eyes narrowed.

“Oh, I shall look forward to this,” she said. “Child, bring him to the sanctum. And then we’ll test out your light. And we’ll make this minion of Satan pay, and pay, and pay.”

She unlocked the cage door, and Nick walked out. Harvey moved between them, but to Theoda, he must have looked as though he was hurrying to be Theoda’s loyal servant, the eager jailer of these people. Theoda gave a single satisfied nod, then sailed up the steps.

“Nicky, why did you do that?” Prudence demanded.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Nick answered absently.

Harvey touched the binding on Nick’s wrist, to get his attention.

“You love Sabrina, and you love your school,” Harvey said. “And you’re brave. I get it.”

Nick gave him that awful, withering look of loathing, the look that just made Harvey want to escape. But he couldn’t escape this, couldn’t leave any more than Nick could. 

“You don’t get the first thing about me. Don’t say that word. Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me with those eyes—”

“—they’re the only eyes I have, dude—”

Nick’s words fell like poison rain. “—I just can’t believe you’re here, I can’t believe you won’t go away—”

“Hey!” Harvey snapped. “You wanted me around earlier. I’m not the one who wanted to cuddle all night long, okay?”

He was immediately aware he’d spoken too loud. Behind the bars, the Weird Sisters went off into a wild round of cackling. Nick’s expression didn’t change, but he went slow hot red beneath the usual olive color of his skin. 

Harvey didn’t have to drag Nick off for questioning. Nick mounted the steps to the crypt so fast it was hard to keep up with him, until there were no stairs. It was just a stone atrium with a curved ceiling, and huge closed church doors in front of them. There was hardly enough space to turn around him, so Harvey had to be unnecessarily close to someone who was furious with him. 

“I thought you’d told me what happened last night,” Nick bit out. “I don’t know why you saved the humiliating part to air in front of an audience. Unless you meant for it to be extra humiliating!”

“But I—but I didn’t,” said Harvey. “It’s a lot more embarrassing to hit on someone than to wanna cuddle!”

Nick stared at him as if he was stupid. This was how Nick usually looked at him, but it was more than usual. 

“Oh, not for witches, huh?” Harvey bit his lip. “Sorry. I didn’t realize. Nick, I really am sorry.”

Making fun of someone in public was the kind of thing… well, the kind of thing the cool kids did at Baxter High, which was why Harvey didn’t like the cool kids. But now Harvey had maybe been mean to the cool kid, which seemed backward.

Nick’s blazing fury seemed to dim slightly as he regarded Harvey, as though he could see how much Harvey meant his apology. Eventually, Nick shrugged.

“We’re all probably going to die anyway,” Nick said. “Whatever.” 

“No, we’ll get through this. I’ll keep trying to reach Sabrina,” Harvey promised. “And… do you have your boyfriend’s phone number? Because I could… text him or something…”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” said Nick abruptly.

“Oh,” said Harvey. 

Oh, it was probably bad that Harvey’d told the witches Nick had a boyfriend, then. 

“And I don’t have his number,” Nick continued. “He never gave it to me because he didn’t like me. You give people phone numbers because you like them.”

“Sure,” said Harvey. “Sometimes platonically. Or you know, if you’re doing a group project together. Or if they’re a delivery place.” 

Nick stared.

“That’s not important right now, I see that,” Harvey said hurriedly. “Um. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but Sabrina wouldn’t be pleased if you got a random boyfriend. The ‘no boyfriend’ thing is probably for the best.”

“Probably,” said Nick. “I do… I do want to please her. I’m… I’m trying.”

“You’re doing fine,” said Harvey. “She seems… really happy with you.”

For a few nights after the sweethearts dance, Harvey hadn’t been able to close his eyes without seeing Sabrina, glowing like a witchy candle in her red dress as Nick led her out onto the dance floor at Baxter High. Harvey hadn’t needed to hear the witches’ shocking conversations to know that Sabrina and Nick were undoubtedly having enormous amounts of fantastic sex. No wonder Sabrina had turned her back on the mortal world, and her pathetic mortal boyfriend.

If there was no Roz, Harvey would be miserable all the time. 

But there was Roz. Thank God for Roz. 

“Well, Sabrina won’t be happy if she gets slain by witch-hunters,” Nick observed.

“Right,” said Harvey. “Yeah, no, probably not.”

“Speaking of the witch-hunters, they’re going to ask you to torture me,” Nick announced. “You should do it.”

“I’m not gonna do that!”

“You should,” said Nick. “Otherwise one of the angels will do it, and they might kill me. Unless you want that? Then you can have Sabrina all to yourself again. The way you mortals like to do it.”

“I don’t know what part of ‘I have a girlfriend’ you’re finding so confusing,” said Harvey. “It means Roz has me all to herself, for as long as she wants me. I told you, Sabrina’s my friend. I don’t wanna kill her boyfriend. I don’t wanna hurt anyone. I want to help you guys, and I will if I can.”

“But… you hate witches,” Nick said, sounding a little uncertain. 

“I don’t,” said Harvey. “I really don’t. I love ’Brina. I care about all the Spellmans. Their home was the first real home I ever saw. I—I used to wish Hilda Spellman was my mom. I’m scared of magic, okay? I’m scared of the thing that—that always lay between me and Brina, and the thing that left me with no choice but to… to go into the room of the only person who ever really loved me, and—and leave a stain on his bedroom wall made by… his blood and his brains, all mixed up. The stain won’t ever come out. But it doesn’t mean I hate witches. You guys can’t make yourselves not magic, and you shouldn’t if you could. I’ll—I’ll get over being afraid someday. And even though I’m afraid, it doesn’t matter. I can’t just abandon people. Especially not anyone I care about.” 

Uneasily, the thought of his grandpa occurred to him. His dad and his grandpa often talked about how ‘being blood’ was important, though it didn’t seem to go both ways. Harvey was blood, and neither of them liked him. Harvey tried, every day, to love his dad, but he was done with his grandpa. His grandpa never came to see them anymore now Tommy was dead, but his dad kept trying to drag Harvey off to see his grandpa, and saying that Harvey did wrong by resisting. Maybe Harvey was wrong. But Harvey wouldn’t go on any more hunting trips, now he knew what their family traditions meant, and he’d recently started refusing even to go to his grandpa’s house. Sneering at Harvey was fine, Harvey was used to that, but his grandpa wouldn’t stop calling Theo ‘Susie,’ and Harvey wouldn’t see him again until he did. 

“The only reason I’d abandon someone is—if I thought they were awful, I guess,” said Harvey. “Beyond any hope.”

He glanced up, to see if that made sense. Nick was already looking away, toward the large curved doors.

“Oh,” Nick said, colorlessly. 

“Did I say something wr—” Harvey began, and then the tall doors creaked open.

Nick hit him on the shoulder, in the too-hard way guys did, not meaning any harm but doing harm all the same. 

The last thing Harvey wanted to do was hurt anybody. He stared at the doors opening into darkness, and swallowed. The binding around Nick’s wrists shone with a cold light, outlining Nick’s tense profile. Nick’s eyes were fixed on the slowly opening doors.

“Game time, farm boy. Come on.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note the changed rating. And forgive me. I stole the euphemism for wanting to bang a witch-hunter from the tie-in books...

The re-consecrated church looked like… a church, aside from the black candles and other paraphernalia in a smashed heap by the pews. There was a high flat altar, raised above the audience that wasn’t there, and glass windows that seemed stained dark.

Theoda had to murmur a blessing to let Nick pass onto the holy ground. Nick flinched, and still walked gingerly as he stepped onto the stone flags. Harvey apprehensively eyed the row of orderly angels… witch-hunters… whatever they were, watching Nick with doll-cold gazes. Then he edged uneasily in front of the smashed heap of religious items. That was Nick’s religion they’d tossed aside like garbage. It was a horrible thing to do, and Nick must feel bad about it.

Nick glanced over at him, and Harvey realized abruptly that him edging away probably hadn’t conveyed a message of support. Oh, no, no, no.

The witch-hunters’ cold silent disapproval, their expectant waiting for nothing good, reminded him of his dad. Harvey’s brain was fragmenting. He had no idea what to do here.

Nick took off his shirt.

Which he shouldn’t have been able to do, since his hands were bound, but he gestured with his bound hands to his chest and then his shirt was in Harvey’s hands. Harvey almost dropped it, then folded it hastily and put it down on a pew.

Witches! Why were they like this.

The peace of the angels seemed slightly ruffled. Their eyes narrowed suspiciously, like they weren’t sure what Nick’s game was. Harvey was pretty sure Nick’s game was being a jackass, like usual, but with an additional black anger beneath the jackass.

Since they’d dese-uh--consecrated his church and put his people in jail and all, that was reasonable. 

“All right, bring on the knives,” Nick drawled.

“We’re not like your vicious, uncouth kind,” said Jerathmiel, recovering from his moment of surprise and strolling forward. “We don’t use knives.”

“Whips!” Nick sounded thrilled. “Even better.”

There was an ironic curl to Nick’s mouth, but the angels were too busy being horrified to notice. 

Except for one angel girl, who looked like a Theoda clone with slightly darker blond, wispier hair. She was peeping from behind her angel brethren’s shoulders, at… Harvey followed her gaze… Nick’s chest?

She didn’t look exactly horrified.

In fact, her eyes on Nick were like Carl’s eyes on Harvey in the locker room, and Harvey actually did know what that meant. 

Harvey didn’t think that was super angelic of her, but he guessed angel ladies had needs. 

It was all slightly unnerving. Nick probably felt very self-conscious. Harvey himself wasn’t super accustomed to being half naked in front of anyone, other than in a locker room context. His only bro was Theo, and they didn’t horse around shirtless like other guys for obvious reasons. In fact, the few times Harvey had been shirtless around Theo, Theo’d got a faintly pinched look, so Harvey tried not to do that anymore. 

There’d been Sabrina, that one time in the woods he tried not to think about, holding her in his arms and thinking she wanted to… that she might want to… but that had been okay. Better than okay. It had been beautiful, because she was shirtless too and she was so beautiful, and at the time he believed she loved him.

Last week, before Roz’s eyesight had failed as much as it was now, Roz and he had been making out and she’d taken off his shirt. He was happy she wanted to, but he wasn’t presuming it meant she wanted him to take off hers. After misreading Sabrina the way he had, he was terrified.

It had been nice though, being warm and close with Roz. She’d touched his skin with her fingertips and said, “Abs!”

She sounded both pleased and surprised. Harvey hoped mostly pleased. He wanted to please her. She took off his jeans too, then there was a long time in which he wasn’t sure if she expected him to do something. They only kissed, him in his boxers and her fully clothed, but he hoped it was a step forward, that he wasn’t messing up.

That had been a private moment, and this wasn’t one. That angel lady should not be creeping.

Harvey glanced tentatively at Nick’s face. Nick seemed unmoved by the celestial creeping. He just stood there in his black jeans, chin tilted in challenge at the angels. Harvey guessed he was used to that kind of thing? Nick also had abs. Probably better than Harvey’s. Definitely better than Harvey’s. Well, he hoped Sabrina was very happy. Harvey actually had no opinion about the abs.

Much more unnerving than abs was the prospect of torture. 

“We have more sophisticated methods,” said Theoda. “It wasn’t necessary to unclothe.”

Right on, Theoda!

Wait no, she was evil. This was a puritanical insistence on chastity that devalued people in some way, Harvey didn’t exactly remember how Roz had put it. He frowned at Theoda just the same.

Nick shook his head, just a fraction, then raised an eyebrow at Theoda.

“Are you going to show me your methods? While I’m still young and pretty? We only have about a hundred years here.”

“Let’s have the new recruit do it,” said Jerathmiel. “Prove his loyalty.”

Theoda’s pale eyes were eager, though her voice was soft. “Do you think you can do it, Haamiah?”

She was looking at him. Oh God.

“Uh, I’m Harvey,” said Harvey. 

Nick made a soft incredulous sound, as if this was the first he’d heard of it, because he liked to make dumb jokes before getting tortured! Cold sweat slid down Harvey’s spine, and he was chickenshit just like his dad said, just like everybody thought, he wished he’d never driven Nick to the Academy. He wished he didn’t know about any of this.

What were they going to _do_?  
Fight them? They would die. Which might be better than torturing somebody, it certainly seemed easier, but it wasn’t a choice he could make for Nick. 

Theoda waved this away. “I gave you a name more befitting your new status. You’re welcome.”

“Uh, thanks,” said Harvey. “My name’s still Harvey.”

He wasn’t her new puppy and he wasn’t going to bite on command. He wasn’t changing Theoda’s name, even if she didn’t deserve having a name close to Theo’s because she was awful. Harvey wished he was wherever Theo was. He always felt braver around Theo. 

“Go to the altar,” said Jerathmiel.

Harvey opened his mouth to refuse, when Nick jerked his head with emphasis toward the altar. Harvey bit his lip.

It should be up to the person with less power, here. So it was up to Nick, who was literally a prisoner. Harvey still felt he should have some say, if he was going to torture somebody, but maybe he didn’t because the alternative was somebody else torturing Nick and what if they killed him?

Oh, Harvey hated his whole life.

Reluctantly, he followed Nick to the altar. Nick climbed onto the smooth stone slab, easily enough despite his bound hands, and lay down. Then he jerked his head at Harvey, and Harvey leaned down, elbows against the edge of the altar, so he could hear Nick whisper to him.

“I have to do everything myself,” Nick hissed in his ear. “Would you just get on with it!”

“But I don’t…” Harvey choked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

That was an obvious fact, but it seemed to give Nick pause. After a moment, he whispered back in a slightly less harsh voice. “For hell’s sake. It’s not the first time someone’s hurt me, farm boy.”

“It would be the first time I hurt you!”

Nick asked: “Are you sure?”

“Are you two quite ready?” asked Jerathmiel. “Is the hapless stray angel proving too much of a craven to lay waste to a single sinner?”

Harvey suspected Jerathmiel of the heavenly host would be insulted to hear how much he reminded Harvey of his dad. The scathing, pitiless tone was just the same. Harvey glared over at Jerathmiel, who sighed and began to roll up his sleeves.

“I’ll do it myself—”

“No,” said Harvey.

No, no more people like his dad hurting anyone else, he’d promised himself that when his dad hurt Tommy. He could do this. He could hurt Nick a little, to save him. He’d hurt Tommy. He’d killed Tommy with his own hands, and he’d loved Tommy better than his own life. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it. It was that he was scared of himself, of being someone like his dad, someone who hurt people. Scared he wouldn’t stop.

But he had to do it, all the same. 

“Use the celestial light within you so you may burn this sinner to ash,” encouraged Theoda.

Harvey gave her a horrified look. He hadn’t expected much from Theoda, yet he was still disappointed.

Nick turned his head. “Pardon my curiosity. How do I give you information if I’m turned to ash?”

“First the body scorches from the inside out and the skin blisters from the heat,” said Theoda. “As the process goes on, you lose your infernal insolence and become eager to tell us all. Concentrate on the light within, Haamiah. Then send it out. Imagine it burning away the black sinner’s blood in his veins.”

He had to do something, Harvey thought with the clarity of despair. He had to try. With the same marble-cold despair he’d felt picking up the gun, he laid his hands down firmly on Nick’s bare shoulders and thought to that driving force of despair inside him: _Do something. Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him_.

Nick’s whole body arched off the stone, and he howled.

It felt like something was happening, terrible light being born, with only Harvey’s frantic thoughts to guide it. _Don’t hurt him, don’t. Take care of him somehow_.

The muscles under Harvey’s palms locked and went rigid. Harvey was able to keep Nick’s shoulders pinned down, barely. That was all he could do. Nick’s back was lifting in a shocked line from the altar, hips twisting, trying to escape what was happening.

Harvey had to take his hands away. But then Nick turned his face in toward Harvey’s, gone uncoordinated enough so his mouth accidentally slid against Harvey’s ear.

“Don’t stop,” Nick murmured, “don’t stop, oh my dark _god_ , don’t stop!” 

Harvey didn’t take his hands away. That feeling of invisible lightning passing through went on and on. Nick’s body jolted with the force of the strikes, again and again. After an endless few minutes Nick was moaning, a long low sound echoing and rolling like a cat up into the shadows of the domed church roof. When he howled again the stained glass in the windows rattled.

“Er—” Theoda coughed. “Is this—are you willing—wait, ready—I mean, ahem, oh dear, will you talk now?”

Harvey lifted his head. Nick was still moving restlessly against the stone, but he’d stopped actually writhing in agony. Thank God. Nick didn’t glance at Theoda. He was staring up at the church roof with his eyes gone wide.

“I want to…” Nick said in a dazed voice. “Oh, I want to do the will of _heaven_ , I want to…”

“Must you say it in that tone?” Theoda demanded.

She was using a pretty funny tone herself. Harvey glared up at her. Theoda shouldn’t be the tone police. Nick was being tortured! He could take any tone he wished. 

“What diabolical powers does Sabrina Spellman possess?” asked Theoda.

“Search me,” panted Nick.

There was sweat rolling down Nick’s face, pooling in the hollow of his throat and glistening on his chest. With steely determination, Theoda ignored every sign Nick was overcome by pain.

“You expect me to believe you didn’t know your girlfriend had vile, darkly corrupt infernal power in her?”

“I had no idea my girlfriend had infernal power,” confirmed Nick, putting the words together as though he had to search for them a long time. He turned his flushed face against the stone slab. “… That’s hot, though.”

“Oh will you please not—” Theoda began, thinly.

“Guess you’d better torture me again,” said Nick, his eyes falling closed, mouth falling slightly open. “Come on, farm boy, what are you waiting for, do you want me to—”

No matter how brave Nick was being, Harvey really couldn’t do this.

Theoda threw up her hands. “I really can’t do this!”

She stormed away from the altar. Harvey lifted his head cautiously. Somehow, most improbably, they were saved. All of the angels had drawn back, looking disturbed by this scene of torture, which wasn’t fair since they’d incited the scene of torture. Harvey was sick of them and done with them.

“Nick,” Harvey murmured, “can you walk?”

“Uh…” Nick, who was usually so composed, was struggling frantically for breath. “With some, uh, difficulty…”

“Okay, but can we, maybe, please, get out of here?” Harvey asked. “Unless you don’t want to? What do you want?”

It was possible Nick was too hurt to move, and he was planning to just lie there on the altar all day. He didn’t struggle when Harvey got him to sit up, though, and when Harvey helped him off the altar he seemed to try and help with the scramble down. His legs almost folded under him.

“What do you want?” Harvey repeated, once he was sure Nick wouldn’t fall.

“You need to ask?” Nick said, soft as a sigh. “To be alone with you.”

“Right,” said Harvey. “Come on, then.” 

The angels seemed to be in a stunned condition. Harvey wondered if this was their first time torturing someone. 

“I’m taking him to lie down,” Harvey told them firmly, and they left the church. “I can’t take you back to the dungeon. Where…?”

“My room,” Nick growled, and gave directions. 

It felt a little safer inside Nick’s room, despite the weird Gothic furnishings and black drapes which sadly Harvey had expected. Nick was still leaning against Harvey, back a boneless arch against Harvey’s chest. And as Harvey eased him over toward the bed Nick turned his head in toward Harvey’s, nose skimming the line of Harvey’s jaw. 

There was no need for frantic whispering anymore. They were alone. 

Harvey pushed him down onto the bed, disengaging from Nick’s hands as Nick clung on trying to keep his balance. Then he pulled the blankets over Nick. He looked around the room, saw a chest at the foot of the bed, went over and rummaged past skulls and books to find several more blankets. Then he came back and piled the blankets on top of Nick. Blankets were comforting.

Then he poured Nick a glass of water and gave it to him. 

“Wait,” said Nick, blinking and trying to wrestle free of the blankets. “What are you doing, I don’t underst—”

Harvey patted the four blankets back into place, then sat down on the stone floor by Nick’s bed. 

“Nick,” said Harvey. “Oh, Nick, I am so _sorry_. Are you hurt very badly?”

Nick abruptly stopped trying to escape the blankets. A strange expression crossed his face. He looked like a stunned trout.

“Try to drink this,” urged Harvey, offering the glass again. “You need water.”

Nick pushed the waterglass sharply away. It almost overset.

“I need a cigarette!” snapped Nick.

“You smoke?” Harvey was aghast. “Sabrina will be furious with you!”

Nick slid a hand over his face, briefly hiding his eyes, then clutched a fistful of his own sweaty hair. The curls stood up in a wild tumbled thicket around his face after that gesture. 

“I don’t believe this,” he said. “I hate mortals, I hate witch-hunters, I hate you!”

That seemed understandable right now, when Nick had been hideously tortured. Harvey nodded, miserable with guilt.

“Maybe you need a shower,” he suggested. “Let me—”

“Leave me alone,” grated Nick, sounding past the edge of patience, and turned away under his many blankets. His back was so tense his spine appeared about to grow ridges.

If someone had been torturing Harvey, he’d probably want them to leave, too.

So he did.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... yes... well... anyway, aside from that... as the angels would say

Harvey waited awkwardly outside the door, trying to guard it, so Nick could get some rest without having to worry about angelic incursion. Said angelic incursion came in the form of Theoda, her sensible shoes tapping against the flagstones. Her pale eyes widened when she saw Harvey.

“Oh,” said Theoda. “You’re out here.”

Yes? Where else would Harvey be? Did Theoda think Harvey and Nick were in the habit of taking naps together?

That had only been one time.

“Obviously?” said Harvey.

“That’s good,” said Theoda. “You made the right decision! I’m proud of you.”

Angels were weird.

“I gave him some blankets, I hope he’ll take a nap,” Harvey said. “Uh, look. I don’t know how angel torture works exactly. Is he going to be okay? Is his blood going to boil in his veins?”

Theoda stared at him for another long moment.

“I—I shouldn’t think so,” said Theoda. “The angel’s gift isn’t, isn’t precisely supposed to have that effect. Also we of the celestial army do not usually tuck witches in for naps, though I suppose considering the alternative… It’s best you came out here. Yes. Well done.”

Harvey quit listening once she indicated Nick was safe. Great if whatever Harvey’d done had the wrong effect, because that meant no burning to ash. 

He was aware he should be pretending to be more of a witch-hunter than he was. It would do nobody any good if Harvey was thrown in witch prison too.

“Sorry if I’m too freaked out. I wanna do the right thing—” and stop you people—“but I know him? Like, he is—“ don’t say is dating your friend Sabrina, then they’ll ask you about Sabrina!--“he used to date a friend of mine. It’s difficult not to see him as a person.”

Theoda softened. She patted his arm, and he let her do it. 

“I’m sure that wicked harlot has carnally known a great many people. I’m sorry he soiled your friend. Don’t waste your pity on such as they, Haamiah. And don’t worry about Jerathmiel. I will tell him your intent was good. You cannot be blamed. You are clearly pure of heart. Your mortal upbringing and sullied blood… something went wrong. But you’ll do better in future.”

She kept patting him, like he really was her dog. Then the other angel girl with the darker hair floated by.

“Is the evil, terrible, sinful witch in there?” she asked. “Should I help guard him?”

“Seraphina!” exclaimed Theoda. 

She grasped the other angel’s arm and dragged her off, muttering about pure hearts. Harvey guessed it was good he wasn’t in trouble with the angels. 

Then Nick’s voice came from behind the door, sounding considerably calmer and colder than before. He called Harvey ‘mortal,’ which Harvey was coming to understand was the name that meant Harvey was In Trouble With Nick, and requested to be taken back down to the dungeon.

“I’d rather be with my own kind,” he snapped, refusing to meet Harvey’s eyes. 

Harvey guessed that made sense, too. Nick had changed his clothes so he was wearing far more severe black, with long sleeves, and done his hair. Like, no judgement for the recently tortured, but sometimes Nick used too much hair gel.

“You should bind my hands again,” Nick told him, distant.

“Um.” Harvey blinked. “What happened to the binding on your hands?”

“You did,” Nick said. “Don’t you remember? You looked at the ropes and they turned to ash.”

Harvey didn’t remember, not really. He remembered scrambling to get Nick off the altar, being frantic with worry, and—oh, maybe ash. He hadn’t wanted Nick to be bound, so he wasn’t. But then Nick had almost fallen onto the floor and Harvey’d had to hold him up, so it hadn’t actually registered. 

“What’s with the face, farm boy?” Nick asked nastily. “Didn’t you want powers, so you could have a hope of keeping up with Sabrina? Finally being with her again?”

Harvey scowled. “Wow, no. I know I’m not going to be with Sabrina. You’re with her. I can’t believe I have to say that. I’m with Roz and we’re happy and she likes me the way I am! I think. Also, I didn’t want anything creepy like this!” said Harvey. “I wanted cool powers like a superhero or a mutant!”

Theoda gave him more rope. It felt horrible, tying the rope around Nick’s wrists again. Nick kept his face turned away while Harvey did it. 

Once he’d put Nick down in the crypt with the others, he slunk away so Nick could be with his friends in relative privacy. Then Theoda told him he was assigned to sleep in Nick’s room. Harvey’s life was a joke at this point. He stole some pillows and slept on the floor. He didn’t sleep well. 

In the morning, he went to check on the witches, and found Prudence and Nick tucked away in the corner of the dungeon having a conference. There was a look of stark horror on Prudence’s face.

“—on a _stone altar_ in front of a _choir of angels_ ,” Nick was saying in a tight voice, and Harvey winced. 

“Hi, Harvey,” called out cute little kid Demonia, very loudly. She waved at him. “Prudence says we can’t listen.”

Agatha was holding her hands over Demonia’s ears. Melvin was holding his hands over Olivia’s. Harvey thought this was very wise of Prudence. Children shouldn’t have to hear about torture.

“Harvey!” Dorcas squeaked. “That’s his name. I remember now. Harvey, Harvey, Harvey! Over here.”

Prudence’s redheaded sister jumped up and ran across to the bars.

“Hi…” said Harvey, approaching cautiously. 

Dorcas put her hand over Harvey’s. Maybe she needed comfort. Harvey tried to look reassuring, and let her hold his hand.

“I was just thinking, when the witch-hunters come down to drag us off and torture us for information,” she began.

“Don’t worr—” Harvey started.

“Will you torture me next?” Dorcas batted her eyelashes. “Pretty please? With spiders on top?”

“Uh,” said Harvey. “Excuse me?”

Okay, no, Harvey got it. From all the languishing looks, Harvey had the impression Dorcas had a crush on Nick. So she wanted to protect Nick, by offering herself up to be tortured in his place. Even though Nick was dating Sabrina, so she couldn’t hope to be with him.

That was extremely nice. See, he’d known some of the witches must be nice.

He gave her a tiny smile. She smiled back. He wished she would not stroke his hand in this disturbing manner, but that was probably just witch stuff. 

“No,” said another girl, with a dark pageboy, elbowing Dorcas. “I want him to do me next.”

“Um,” Harvey said. “This is very noble, and you’re all good people, but…”

“My name’s Elspeth,” added pageboy girl. “I think you’re beautiful! And tall.”

“Huh… thanks,” said Harvey. 

She fluttered her eyelashes and dived for his other hand. “You’re welcome, beautiful mortal.”

She probably meant well, witches were very outspoken, it was fine. Prudence made a throwing-up sound. Harvey fixed his eyes pleadingly on her. He wished Prudence would come over and be his friend.

Prudence—definitely the best witch, next to Sabrina—left Nick, with a mildly disdainful pat on the shoulder, and headed toward the bars. She didn’t try to take Harvey’s hand. Harvey was grateful. He was out of hands.

“I do not wish to be tortured!” declared Prudence. “Ever.”

“Very understandable,” said Harvey. 

Prudence nodded imperiously. “Glad we’re agreed. You’re also not allowed torture my sisters.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Harvey, while Dorcas wailed and grabbed at Prudence’s sleeve like a thwarted child. Dorcas seemed determined on martyrdom.

Her cries of “Please let me, Prue, just once” were interrupted by the tap of sensible shoes. That sound was starting to send chills down Harvey’s spine. 

Theoda arrived down in the crypt dungeon.

“Oh no!” Elspeth said brightly. “Is it time to be tortured?”

“Indeed it is, young lady. Haamiah, I’m sure you tried your best and what happened clearly wasn’t intentional,” said Theoda, “but I think we’re going to have a more experienced celestial host take the wheel on this one.”

Harvey was briefly relieved, then abruptly terrified.

Dorcas scuttled behind Prudence. “I rescind my offer to be tortured.”

Nick rolled to his feet. His face still had that shut-down look, but the light of battle was back in his eyes.

“Great decision,” he told Theoda. “Let’s go again. This time put your back into it. If there’s another malfunction, I do own some personal knives and whips you can borrow? But they’re from my private collection. So I’ll want them back.”

From the look on Theoda’s face, she didn’t find Nick’s humor amusing, and if she was the one torturing him, he was about to be very sorry.

“You can stay behind,” Nick continued, glaring at Harvey. 

“You must come with us and learn,” said Theoda.

In the end, all Harvey knew was that none of the witches could follow Nick, and he couldn’t let Nick go alone. He followed, feeling nothing but dread.

Ten minutes later, Harvey felt nothing but puzzled. Nick was lying on the altar, propped up on one elbow and wearing an expression of polite boredom, while Jerathmiel went slightly red in the face.

“Just so you know,” said Nick, “it’s not that common, it doesn’t happen with all guys, and it is a big deal.”

Harvey half wanted to grin and half wanted to shut Nick up: backtalking the angels wasn’t safe.

“Theoda!” snapped Jerathmiel, “it isn’t working! Why isn’t it working?” 

He sounded like Dad snapping at Tommy to fix the TV. Back when Tommy was alive and could fix the TV. 

“Oh, well, you know that can happen,” piped up Seraphina. “Once a pathway of light is established, another angel can’t make one. I mean, it usually doesn’t matter, since the angel in question can just kill the witch, but since we need this witch for information and Theoda’s stray is all broken…”

“I’m certain Haamiah will get it right this time,” Theoda said.

There was a dismayed angelic silence.

“I’m not watching that again,” said Jerathmiel.

Wow, now Jerathmiel was squeamish about torture, when he’d been ready to torture Nick himself a minute ago? Harvey was outraged.

“I am willing to watch it again,” declared Seraphina.

“Listen, there are daggers all over this school,” said Nick. “I’ll show you where. Grab a dagger and start carving, stop being so lazy.”

“Uncouth,” Theoda muttered, but Jerathmiel looked tempted. He had eyes even colder than the other angels, ice instead of glass.

Harvey was reminded, once again, of his dad. 

“Don’t,” exclaimed Harvey. “I’ll—I’ll try again.”

He got up. Jerathmiel made an exasperated sound and hurried away from the altar and out of the church. Harvey wasn’t sorry to see him go. 

Nick watched warily as Harvey came toward the altar.

“Listen,” Harvey said, in a low voice. “I’m—I’m sorry it hurt so much before, but it didn’t do any permanent damage. Knives would.”

“I could fix that!”

“Not with your hands bound! Listen, it’ll be different this time. I’ll try to make it better,” Harvey promised.

“No,” Nick warned. He sounded truly alarmed. “Do not do that!” 

The angels were all looking at them expectantly. Theoda was giving him an encouraging nod. Some of the other angels looked vicious as Jerathmiel. 

Harvey ducked his head down, face almost in his own arms, so he couldn’t see the witches. Only the side of Nick’s face, Nick's mouth pulled tight as he braced himself. 

“If it’s awful, tell me no and I’ll stop. I promise,” Harvey whispered.

He put out one hand, and laid it on Nick’s collarbone. Maybe one hand would be different, would hurt less. 

He didn’t understand it, but he could feel something was happening. It burned a little bit, like when Harvey was small and his dad gave him a sip of his whisky, unfamiliar and hot and startling. Only it was like Harvey was the glass somehow, a stream of brightness being tipped somewhere else. 

Nick’s body shocked up once, then went still. At the back of his throat, he made a sound like a long low whine.

“No?” Harvey asked, and started to take his hand away. 

“ _Yes_ ,” said Nick between clenched teeth. Once that one word was out, his head fell back against the stone and the words poured out of his mouth, all the same word: “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, oh yes—”

All right. Nick was determined to endure this. He was brave: Harvey already knew that. Harvey kept going.

The string of ‘yes’ turned to incoherent whimpers, nonsense syllables and sharp little cries and desperate groans as though Nick was beyond speech. Nick was shuddering up off the altar, then actually writhing, body contorting and curving in wild random directions. Harvey had to grab Nick’s shoulder with his free hand. It took both hands to hold Nick down hard, to stop him tumbling right off the altar and onto the stone floor.

He didn’t know why this was going so wrong all over again. He really didn’t want to hurt Nick. He wished, as hard as he could, that this would be okay somehow, that Nick could be better.

Nick screamed then, the sound slamming off the stained glass windows. Harvey glanced at him nervously and Nick’s face had gone slack, eyes closed, as though he’d blacked out for an instant. It was only a split second, before the urgent, agonized sounds started again.

There was a scent of char on the air--oh God, there went the celestial rope again, Theoda was going to be mad at him—and one of Nick’s hands came up, grasping Harvey’s hair in a handful and pulling him in. Nick pressed his hot cheek against Harvey’s own. 

Harvey couldn’t see the angels, but he could hear Theoda’s voice, thin and thready with outrage against the background of full-throated moans echoing through the church. “Right, we’re just going to leave, this means you Seraphina—”

Harvey managed to lift his head just enough to see the door close on the angels. Theoda had Seraphina and a male angel by their arms and appeared to be dragging them along as they looked over their shoulders. Harvey was shocked by their apparent eagerness to witness torture.

When the door banged shut, Harvey took his hands away at once.

“—why—” Nick slurred. He sounded _drunk_. Harvey was very alarmed.

“The angels are gone now,” Harvey informed him, reassuringly. “It’s over.”

“Oh,” said Nick. 

“Sorry to ask,” Harvey said awkwardly. “I realize I’m not the one who got tortured? But could you let go of my hair.”

Nick let go of his hair.

Nick had actually been pulling it very hard. Which was fine, if he needed reassurance or a handhold or something. Harvey circled the altar, trying to think of a way to help. Nick’s own hair had gone kind of cycloned again. Nick was just sitting on the altar, face bewildered, eyes darker than usual. His shirt had ridden up almost up to his neck because of all the thrashing around on the altar. Harvey tugged it carefully down. Nick let him. He looked absolutely wrecked. 

“I’m so sorry again,” Harvey told him. “I’m just so sorry.”

Nick sighed. “None of this was your idea. You shouldn’t even be here. I know it’s not your fault.”

That was an almost nice thing to say. Maybe this was a breakthrough.

“You seem kind of mad at me anyway,” Harvey ventured.

“I am mad at you anyway!” Nick snapped. “You’re an idiot.” 

Maybe this wasn’t a breakthrough.

Nick lifted a hand as if he wanted to push it through his hair, then glanced at his own hand in astonishment as the hand shook. He dropped his hand. “Do you actually not know what’s going on?”

“You’re not being turned to ash?” Harvey pointed out.

“Well,” said Nick, “there is that.”

Harvey realized he was messing up the torture somehow, but he didn't know why everyone seemed focused on the fact it wasn't going exactly to plan. Apparently turning people to ash was a possibility and Harvey didn’t want it to happen.

“Let’s get you off the torture altar,” urged Harvey. “Can you walk this time?”

“Of course,” Nick snarled, as if he’d been insulted. 

It was just a question, Harvey was just trying to look out for him, he didn’t know why Nick had to react that way.

Nick swung himself off the altar. His legs instantly folded up underneath him and Harvey had to catch Nick in his arms.

“—no,” Nick admitted. “I can’t walk.”

“I could carry you…” Harvey offered.

“Don’t you dare,” Nick snarled. “All right, farm boy, just—just help me.”

Okay, ‘farm boy,’ not ‘mortal,’ so Harvey wasn’t in serious trouble with Nick right at this moment.

Harvey got an arm around Nick’s shoulders, and half supported, half dragged him back to Nick’s bedroom. He had no better ideas for where to go. At least Nick fought less about getting put to bed this time.

“If you give me a blanket, I will kill you!” said Nick.

Harvey sighed. “Jesus, what do you have against blankets.”

Nick was trembling all over, in fits and starts like the fast sleek horses on Mr Putnam’s friend’s farm, when they were tired and wired and still seemed nervy. Something had to be done. Harvey brought Nick a glass of water, and Nick made an incredulous refusing sound. Honestly Nick was too stubborn for his own good and Harvey was done with it. He pulled Nick bodily upright, so he was sitting up in bed, and made Nick lean against him so he’d be supported enough to stay sitting up. 

“I’m serious, Nick, this time you will drink it,” Harvey ordered. 

When Harvey put the glass to Nick’s mouth and tipped it up, Nick swallowed, then gulped the water down.

“Good,” said Harvey. Nick made a soft, pleased sound for some reason. Well, that was better than a distressed sound.

Nick’s back was propped up against Harvey’s chest, so he couldn’t pat Nick on the back like Nick had said he liked. He patted Nick on the head instead, and hoped that was okay. Nick nudged into Harvey’s hand like a cat, so it seemed as though it was okay. Harvey kept doing it, as gently as he could.

“Is this aftercare?” Nick’s voice sounded drowsy, almost wondering.

“Oh, um,” said Harvey. “I guess?”

Caring for someone after they’d been tortured seemed like the actual least he could do.

Nick closed his eyes. “I read about that in a mortal book once. Wondered what it’d be like. ’S nice.”

Nick seemed to have only two settings: too-cool-for-you aloof and extremely cuddly. Honestly witches gave Harvey whiplash, but this was more peace than they'd had in the last twenty-four hours. Harvey was weary with worry, and the pillows on Nick's bed were soft even though they were all black silk and velvet and scary. He leaned back against them and kept patting, getting Nick's hair back into some sort of order. 

Nick burrowed in closer. Really very close. Which was fine if it was for comfort, but then Nick caught hold of the collar of Harvey’s shirt and he was… tilting his own face up. Trying to bring their lips together.

Right. Harvey wasn’t mad. Harvey completely understood. Witches were just like this. Nick was half out of his mind, like when he’d come to Harvey’s house drunk. Wow, that seemed as if it was a long time ago. But this couldn’t be allowed to continue. 

“Nick—um, hey. Don’t do that,” he mumbled. 

“Fine,” Nick said in a clipped voice, and turned his face away. But he kept his head on Harvey’s shoulder, so Nick was literally giving Harvey the cold shoulder while still cuddling a bit. Witches made no sense.

After a while Nick went to sleep. Harvey climbed out of bed, slightly worried Nick would wake or protest, but Nick appeared to be out cold.

Harvey sat in a weird goth chair with a point on top, and put his face in his hands. 

Harvey would never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt or betray Roz or Sabrina. He loved them both far too much: it was utterly out of the question. But if… it wasn’t for that… he might have let Nick. Even though Nick was a guy, and hated him, plus was scary, and overly cool. He didn’t know. He felt so bad.

He took his phone out of his pocket, but it was out of battery. No way to reach out to Roz, or to Sabrina, or to Theo. He didn’t know what the angels were going to try next. 

Oh God, everything was so screwed up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world may be exploding, but hey, Prudence is always fun? Hope you guys enjoy.

Nick woke up in a good mood. Harvey found this intensely weird: he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Nick in a good mood before. Maybe at the sweethearts dance, with Sabrina, but it was kind of hard to tell from far away. Whenever Harvey had actually come anywhere near them, Nick’s mood had gone visibly darker and Harvey had sheered off, thinking to himself that Nick Scratch was a horrible and alarming person.

Nick seemed less alarming now, in comparison with the terrible angels, and also after all the cuddling. That had been bizarre, but not fearsome. 

Prudence took one look at Nick when they got back to the dungeon, then said, “Oh, evil Dark _Lord_ ,” and rolled her eyes. 

Nick shot her a wink and swaggered over to her. They began a conversation in which Prudence began to hit Nick and call him names, and Nick said, “—might as well—” and “—little choice in the matter—“ and “—everything is ruined forever anyway!” in a strangely chipper tone. 

“Boo, you whore!” said Prudence. “Everything’s been ruined forever since Sabrina Spellman entered our lives. I’m so tired of this!”

Elspeth, the girl with the pageboy hair, distracted Harvey by grabbing hold of his sleeve through the bars. “I’m a very wicked witch,” she told him.

“Oh… kay,” said Harvey.

“I think I should be tortured next,” Elspeth continued.

“That is so noble,” said Harvey, “but—"

Dorcas interrupted, “I told you that if you tried to skip the line I would cut you, Elspeth! My sister didn’t raise me to make idle threats!”

“I’m not going to torture either of you!” Harvey exclaimed.

Dorcas blinked at him dolefully. “Because of monogamy?”

“Uh, no,” said Harvey. “People aren’t really monogamous about… torture? I don’t think…”

“What is monogamy?” asked little Demonia, coming up to the bars. She reached out her hand for Harvey’s, so Harvey detached his sleeve from Elspeth’s to give it to her. 

“Oh, well,” Harvey began. “Monogamy is when… well, you love each other very much, and so—”

“I have a dagger in my corset,” announced Prudence. “If you continue speaking along these vile lines to helpless children, I will embed it in your skull.”

Harvey went quiet.

Prudence bared her teeth at him. “Monogamy is a horrible precept mortals use to limit their own access to carnality in accordance with their false god’s chill and distant dictates,” she told Demonia. “It is something you will find out about when you are older. Certain witches practise it after marriage in order to remove confusion about the succession, but that is a sad necessity. It is also a foolish deception that Sabrina Spellman engages in, because she is demented, and she coerced Nicky to try to do it with her, and he agreed because he is a witless slut. Even though he’s very bad at it.”

“I’m sure you’re doing fine, Nick,” Harvey said, trying to support Sabrina and Nick’s love.

Nick made an unreadable but very expressive face. His face sure was trying to express something.

Were all witches into… Harvey dredged up the word from his mom’s books… polyamory? The books said ethical polyamory was okay, if you all loved each other and had excellent boundaries, but Harvey wasn’t sure the witches had great boundaries. 

“What do you know to do, if Sabrina Spellman comes to you and asks you to do anything for her?” Prudence coached Demonia.

“No matter what it is, back away slowly just saying ‘no’ over’n’over again, and come find you,” Demonia answered obediently. 

“Yes, excellent. Now unhand that witch-hunter, Demonia. Put it down! It’s nasty.”

Demonia clung to Harvey’s hand. “No! I like him. Dorcas said I would find out what mortal boys were for when I was older and now I know! They are for singing to you and touching your hair and it is very nice. After my dark baptism, I shall have five hundred mortal boys.”

“Jesus that is a lot,” Harvey exclaimed.

“Don’t swear,” chorused the witches. 

“Things are bad enough without that,” said Nick. “Speaking of everything being awful, could we perhaps make a plan to not all die?”

Nick in a good mood was totally on it. Harvey was impressed.

“Great idea,” said Harvey. “I have a thought. We should fight the angels.”

Nick gave him a long stare, then shook his head. “Anyway, you’re not allowed to help make the plan.” 

“Because… of being a witch-hunter?”

“Because of being an idiot,” said Nick. “Fight the angels? We would all die much quicker. Shut the heaven up. I shall make the plan.”

“Okay. What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know!” Nick said between his teeth. “I just know your plan is stupid!”

Harvey wished Sabrina was here. She was very good at making plans. Sometimes they got in trouble with school or the fire department, but she always had an idea of what they should do next.

“Books!” Nick said eventually, after some deep thought. 

All the other witches groaned, but even saying the word ‘books’ had made the weird glow of Nick’s obvious happiness go brighter. It was nice. Sabrina and Roz felt that way about books, too. 

“Okay,” Harvey said. “Books, then.”

Nick’s ideas seemed one thousand per cent library focused, but he snapped his fingers and transported books to them, and one book had maps of the school, and under the church there was a secret passage leading to an old graveyard.

Nick was definitely the leader of the research charge. He’d handed books through the bars to Harvey, but getting through witch tomes was pretty slow going. Little Demonia and Olivia were reading too, but mostly they seemed to like doing what Harvey was doing. They held up the books to show him some upsetting pictures, which he admired to please them. Once they’d discovered the map of the passage, though, Prudence brought her sisters to the research corner and began to trace the lines of the map with a darkly painted nail.

“So, the witch-hunter gets us the keys and gets us out, at night when we have enough time to escape,” she said. “We secrete the younger ones in a safe place, then we arm ourselves and come back to rain down fire and blood on the celestial beings!”

“Oh,” Harvey offered. “I can get some dynamite from the mines and we can blow them up.”

He thought that was a pretty good idea. Prudence appeared to be considering it.

“No!” Nick was clearly scandalized. “We are not blowing up my school! We are not blowing up my library! No dynamite, what is wrong with you?”

“You got expelled, Nick,” Agatha whispered meanly. 

“I won’t be expelled once we save everybody from angels,” Nick shot back. “I’ll graduate top of the year, as I always intended to. As long as we keep the school intact.”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Okay, nerd, we won’t blow up your library.” 

Nick went quiet then, so they returned to the books and planning the breakout. Once the witches were free, they could find some way to contact Sabrina. Harvey would be able to go home, and charge his phone. 

Prudence sighed, and snapped her book shut. “In the absence of any better schemes, let’s go with this one.”

Nick looked slightly crestfallen, which Harvey thought was a shame. He’d put in a lot of work, and he’d seemed happy before, even if that was very peculiar. Roz said positive reinforcement was important in any kind of environment. Which meant paying attention to someone, and telling them when they did a great job.

“It’s a good plan, Nick,” he offered. “You’re really smart.”

“I know,” Nick scoffed. “Everybody knows.”

But he glanced up from his book, and before he glanced back down Harvey caught the curve of a smile.

Wow, Nick Scratch in a good mood. Who knew? Maybe they were going to be friends after all. And once they escaped the dungeon and the angels, they could go on double dates! Sabrina would be totally happy they were getting along. And Roz, who was so smart herself, would like Nick. That would be so cool. Everything was gonna be okay.

Then the door opened, and Harvey’s blood ran cold with the fear of the coming of angels. 

Nick snapped his fingers, and the books and maps poofed out of existence, just in time before Theoda reached the bottom of the steps. She fixed Nick with an icy stare.

“Bind his hands, Haamiah. I shall lay in a supply of blessed rope in your bedroom, but you must try to keep it intact!”

She threw Harvey a loop of rope, and Harvey tied it onto Nick’s wrists, offered instantly through the bars.

Nick made a little face at the rope. “Really should be tighter.”

“Shut your pretty mouth, Nick,” said Elspeth. “The mortal doesn’t know and he is trying his best.”

“Thanks, Elspeth.”

She winked at him. “Tie me up anytime. For practice.”

Probably among the witches, that was a friendly offer. “Um,” said Harvey.

“That’s enough out of you diabolical sluts,” snapped Theoda, sounding oddly like Prudence talking to Nick. “Haamiah, we have decided to enter in on another phase of your training.”

“Oh well,” said Nick, in a low purring voice. “I’m ready.”

Theoda narrowed her eyes in his direction. “I’m sure,” she said. “We’re going to try with a different witch.”

Oh no.

Many hands went up in the dungeon. 

Witches were nice people, after all, Harvey thought. This was just like that old movie Spartacus, which he’d watched because Roz said it was a classic. Dorcas and Elspeth were shoving each other in their eagerness to sacrifice themselves. 

To his extreme alarm, he saw small Olivia raise her hands. Thankfully, Prudence smacked her hands down.

“What, Prudence?” Olivia whined. “Everyone thinks it’s fun and I want to try!”

Prudence made Harvey remember Tommy, suddenly, with a force that made his eyes sting. The way Tommy used to automatically look after Theo or Roz, so used to being Harvey’s big brother that he’d fall into being a big brother with other people. Prudence was a big sister all over, staring down Olivia with disapproval.

“It isn’t fun and you’re much too young,” she said severely. “It is disgusting and shameful, and witch-hunters will only bring witches to ruin.”

Theoda nodded. “How true. Consider yourself selected, witch.”

Oh no! 

Harvey and Prudence exchanged mutually appalled stares. 

“No,” said Dorcas, sounding much less amused than before. “My sister shouldn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do. Let me do it in her place, please let me, please--”

“It should be me,” said Nick.

“I’ll do it,” interrupted Agatha, throwing a poisonous look at Harvey. “I don’t wish to do it, but I will.”

Prudence glanced at Agatha’s sleek dark head, and Dorcas’s red braids, then bit her lip. “I have been chosen, sisters. Very well. So mote it be. Though I don’t see why you angels can’t simply burn sinners to ash like reasonable people!”

Theoda opened the cage door, and Prudence walked out with her head held high. She was being so brave, Harvey could do no less, though he was afraid even to draw near her as they walked up the steps. 

“I’ll fight them if you say,” he whispered to her.

“Feel free to perish, but do not drag me into it, witch-hunter,” said Prudence in a distant tone. “Let’s simply get this over with. And don’t imagine I’ll scream for you like that little bitch Nicky.”

“Wow,” said Harvey. “Let’s not judge the recently tortured, shall we!”

Prudence sighed as they made their way down the aisle, among the assembled angels, under the stained-glass windows of sinners and—probably more sinners. Jerathmiel made an approving noise when he saw Prudence, and Harvey’s stomach turned.

“This is both a ridiculous and revolting situation,” said Prudence, gesturing Harvey away so she could climb onto the stone altar herself. “Witches and witch-hunters should simply be eternal enemies, locked in a cycle of remorseless destruction. Anything else is nonsensical.”

“What a sensible girl,” remarked Jerathmiel. “And—very attractive. For a witch. In a painted Jezebel sort of way.”

“Where’s the other vile servant of the Serpent?” murmured the angel Seraphina. “The one whose hair goes all curly.”

Prudence hissed, “Cease to blast my sight, deluded puppets of the false god. I’ll have none of you.”

Several more angels murmured approval. They seemed to find Prudence soothing after a weird couple of days. 

Harvey normally found Prudence kind of soothing as well, but not in this current situation. His every nerve felt so jumpy, he thought he might vibrate out of his skin. Prudence wasn’t going to forgive him for hurting her, the way Nick had. He wasn’t sure he could forgive himself. A big sister. He’d rather die. He wished he could just die.

But Prudence had said not to drag her into this.

She tilted her chin at him now. “Get it over with, then.”

“Oh God, I am so sorry,” said Harvey, and reached out and put his hands on her forearms. 

Prudence’s arms beneath his palms felt rigid as bars. Her jaw was locked tight, and her eyes dripped disdain. Harvey let the lock inside him turn, but at the same time he thought of Prudence and her pride, the way she was with her sisters and with the children, her arch sense of humor and his desperate wish not to hurt her. To shield her, to make sure she was okay.

After an endless moment, she said, “Oh,” and then “Hmm.” The muscles of her arms relaxed slightly, though her posture stayed impeccable.

“Are you all right there, young—jezebel?” inquired Jerathmiel. “Are you in terrible agony?”

“No,” answered Prudence. “I don’t find it particularly pleasant, mind you.”

There was a buzz among the angels, half sounding relieved and half simply puzzled. Harvey was torn between the two emotions himself. He was so, so glad Prudence seemed to be all right, but… it was very different than with Nick.

“Are you hiding being in terrible pain?” he whispered in her ear. “Am I hurting you? I—I really don’t want to.”

Prudence’s disdainful gaze flickered a fraction. “No, witch-hunter,” she said. “You’re not hurting me.”

“You said it wasn’t pleasant.”

Prudence sighed and explained, “It feels… rather like an embrace. Which is unpleasant, because I don’t wish to be embraced by a witch-hunter!”

“Like a…” Harvey said, stunned. “Like a hug?”

Oh. That was—that was good, if very unexpected. Prudence sat on the altar, enduring the psychic hug.

“At least we are spared another sight of depravity, but I just cannot believe our lives have come to this,” said Jerathmiel. “I’ll hunt down this little white-haired imp of darkness myself, so we can leave this accursed place and never return.” 

He slammed his way out of the church. Harvey jumped at the sound of the door slamming, feeling sick at the thought of Jerathmiel near Sabrina. He’d been wrong to want her here. He didn’t want her anywhere near this tribe of remorseless angels.

“It’s wonderful you’re improving, Haamiah,” said Theoda loyally. “Someone else try to torture her, please.”

Seraphina, with a vicious little twist to her mouth as though she wished to punish Prudence for not being Nick, stepped up to the altar. Nothing happened. A male angel Harvey didn’t know congratulated Harvey on the strength of his pathway of light. Harvey wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Can I go now?” inquired Prudence, and swung herself off the altar. Then she wavered, and tried to catch herself, but her hands were bound.

Harvey turned and scooped her up off her feet. 

Prudence gave a thin scream of rage. “Put me down!”

But he could feel her whole frame trembling slightly against his chest.

“Please just let me help,” Harvey whispered. “I promise, I won’t think we’re friends or anything, but… I can tell you’re not okay, and it’s my fault. Let me.”

She sighed, a noise like exasperated surrender, and he carried her carefully out of the desecrated church. The angels were looking kinda helpless again. 

“I’m perfectly all right,” Prudence told him. “It’s just not every day a girl feels herself enveloped by warm celestial light. Thankfully. How nauseating.”

“I’m sorry,” Harvey said humbly. “But I’m glad you didn’t burn to ash.”

“Yes, this was a relief on a number of levels,” said Prudence. 

Harvey paused, on the dark steps down to the dungeon, to check Prudence over and make sure she was truly all right.

“I could let you go,” he offered quietly.

“I won’t leave my sisters,” said Prudence. “But why is it you won’t leave us?”

“I don’t… I don’t want to let anyone get hurt, by someone stronger than they are. So I have to stay. I’m so glad you weren’t hurt. But… I’m so sorry to be hurting Nick. Do you, do you think I could work out how to do it like it was with you?”

She studied him, sharp eyes amber in the shadows.

“As I understand it, angelic power is derived from purity of purpose. Which is why it is usually the burning fire of destruction brought down upon my kind. You seem able to use different channels, but—if you think of us as individuals, rather than vermin, it must be different with every witch. Different depending on how you feel about them… and how they feel about you.”

“Uh,” said Harvey. “How do you feel about me?”

“Vermin,” said Prudence, promptly.

Harvey laughed. She was sort of awful, but so fiercely herself. He was used to loving strong-willed women. “I like you okay,” he said shyly.

“I suppose that is why I must endure embraces of celestial light,” drawled Prudence. “Lucky me.”

Harvey carried her down to the dungeon. The other witches were crowding up against the bars, and seemed pleasantly scandalized to see Prudence in Harvey’s arms. 

Nick snorted and said, mystifyingly, “Heh, the move.”

“Are you all right, Prue?” called Dorcas. “How was it?”

Prudence called back, “I am well, sister. It was underwhelming.”

“Don’t worry, Harvey,” said Elspeth, the witch who seemed to like him. “I’m sure you did wonderfully! She’s extremely hard to impress.”

Several other witches, including Nick, murmured heartfelt agreement at that. Prudence seemed gratified. 

They didn’t actually have a key to the cage door, so Prudence sat on the floor and touched her sister’s hair through the bars. 

“You could go, Prue,” Dorcas offered in a small voice. “You should run.”

Prudence tucked wisps of hair into Dorcas’s coronet of braids. “Don’t be more absurd than you can help, sister.”

They had to work out how to save all the witches, they absolutely had to. Harvey glanced toward Nick, the planner, and saw Nick watching Prudence and Dorcas with a wistful air. Prudence and Nick were friends, that much was clear, but Harvey didn’t think there were many soft touches involved for witches. Prudence might save it all for her sisters. And Nick, as Harvey recalled from… weirdness earlier today… liked having his hair touched. 

Well, all the more reason to get him back to Sabrina, who would presumably do that constantly if Nick wanted. These poor witches, Harvey thought. Thank God Sabrina had been brought up by her Aunt Hilda, who never let a day go by without a hug.

Harvey hoped they could take the younger witches to Sabrina’s Aunt Hilda. He moved closer, and Olivia and Demonia pressed themselves up against the bars. He reached in and smoothed their hair, as there was nobody else to do it. They didn’t have Sabrina’s Aunt Hilda, not yet.

The shadows of the cage bars lengthened and hit the farthest wall. Dorcas went to sleep with her head in Melvin’s lap, but Agatha stayed with Prudence, both of them holding onto the same bar from opposite sides. Demonia and Olivia fell asleep with their foreheads against the bars, hands reaching out through them, while Harvey murmured soothing nonsense to them.

When Demonia flailed and reached out again, Harvey stooped over and kissed her small hand, which made her settle. Then he glanced upward, to catch Nick in a slant of moonlight, looking in their direction, but with such a strange expression on his face Harvey wasn’t sure what he could be looking at. Harvey wasn't doing anything special, nothing he hadn't done before: Nick couldn't be looking at him.

“Hey, Nick?” Harvey asked, keeping his voice down so he wouldn’t wake anyone. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything,” said Nick, then a faint note of irony entered his voice. “Whether I’ll answer you or not, mortal… that is yet to be determined.”

Yes, yes, Nick was a super cool witch, mystique, black leather jackets or whatever, Harvey got it.

“Prudence said, um, that the—angelic magic might have a different effect on different witches depending on how—I felt about them or how they felt about me?” 

“Oh,” said Nick.

Harvey swallowed. “Yeah. So I wanted to say… I’m sorry if it hurts because of me. I don’t hate you. I really don’t. But when I—do that to you--it still hurts, right?”

“Yes,” Nick answered, very quiet. “Yes, but…”

Yes was what mattered, no matter what brave thing about it not being so bad Nick was going to say next. 

Harvey squared his shoulders and struggled on. “So—it’s my fault. I guess I, um, have had some negative feelings about you. I mean, not anymore. Um, I’m working through them. I love Roz now, but I did love Sabrina. I—so much. I know I can’t anymore, but… but I did.”

“Before you took it away,” Nick said, distantly.

“I didn’t take anything away!” Harvey said, and now he felt angry with Nick, when he shouldn’t feel angry with Nick, when that might’ve been what hurt Nick and Nick had done nothing wrong. “I always knew that—she’d probably go off to a fancy college and meet someone better than me. But instead it happened when we were sixteen, and it wasn’t a fancy college, it was a whole other world, with magic, and—and my--and people dying. And you! Like, not only are you cooler and better-looking and everything, but all the rest of it! I know why she wants you instead of me. I get it. I don’t blame her. But it was still hard.”

Nick’s eyes were glittering, black in white moonlight.

“Oh, you get it, do you? You don’t understand anything. Let’s talk about Sabrina, then.” 

There was something almost menacing in Nick’s tone. He moved toward the bars and Harvey felt a weird thrill of apprehension. Even though Nick couldn’t get through the bars. There was no threat, and no need for Harvey to move away.

“Did you ever make Sabrina come?” Nick asked, softly.

As if that was an appropriate question to ever ask anybody, ever! Witches! What on earth! Harvey stared with his mouth falling open.

“I…” he said. “Oh my God.”

The answer was _no_ , and also, Harvey didn’t even know how he would go about doing that. In theory, he had some sort of vague idea, in practise, when Sabrina had taken off her clothes in the woods and kissed him he’d kept his hands by his sides for fear of putting them in the wrong places. If the question was, had he thought about it… 

But what did that matter? It had never happened, and never would now. Nick had obviously done that, a hundred times already probably, and now Harvey’s mind was assailed by a waterfall of strange, disconnected images. Sabrina in the woods. Sabrina in his bed, saying ‘I missed you.’ Roz in his bed, the same bed, should he get a new bed? Nick’s hand in his hair, on the altar. 

Nick was looking at Harvey as if he was from another planet. Which to witches, Harvey guessed he was.

Then Nick asked another totally horrifying question.

“You’ve made yourself come,” Nick said, in his low dark voice. “Surely.”

Wow, Harvey did not want to have a sexual discussion panic attack. 

“Listen,” said Harvey. “If this is meant to be a bro talk so we can get along better… look, I’d like to get along better but I—I’m not super comfortable with—can we not?”

Nick sighed. “Fine.”

He’d literally never talked to anyone about that sort of thing. Tommy had left their mom’s books on Harvey’s desk when he was ten, but Tommy’d looked super embarrassed about it so Harvey hadn’t asked any follow-up questions. Harvey’s friends would go giggle about sex and crushes in bathrooms, where Harvey couldn’t be. Harvey would’ve liked to have a bro talk, in theory. A bro talk with Nick Scratch, though, seemed like telling someone about how you played drums with a spoon and a bowl, while they went, Oh, I conducted a whole orchestra in Paris one time. It was just too scary.

He was sorry if he was disappointing Nick, but Nick didn’t look super mad. 

“Nick,” ventured Harvey. “There’s something else I wanna ask. You know a lot about magic, right? Like, even more than the other witches.”

Because Nick was smart. Nick inclined his head with a pleased air.

“I think… somebody did a memory spell on me,” confided Harvey. “Like, Sabrina did once, but I know about that one. I was carrying Prudence earlier, and it felt… familiar. Like I’d done it before. But I don’t remember doing it before. And it’s not just that. She seems familiar. As if I know her better than I do.”

“Is that so,” said Nick, his voice detached and wondering. “Is there anything else you find familiar?”

“Yeah,” said Harvey. “I think… Dorcas, too. But, Nick, why would Prudence do a memory spell on me? I really like her. I wouldn’t want to forget her. I don’t think she’d enchant me. There must be someone else involved. Like, a bad witch. I was thinking maybe that Father Blackwood guy?”

“Could be anyone. Memory spells are fairly elementary magic.” Nick shrugged. “Well, if it was a bad witch, someone you’d want to forget, maybe they did you a favor. Hardly our biggest problem.”

“No,” said Harvey. “Guess not. Hey, do you want to--”

But Nick was backing up, into the darkest recesses of the cell, and far away from the bars.

“I’m going to sleep,” said Nick politely. “I’m tired of mortals right now. You do whatever you want. You always do.”


	8. Chapter 8

In the morning, Prudence said, “I have a plan.”

Harvey was pleased to hear this. “Great,” he told Prudence supportively. “I like when Sabrina has a plan.”

“I’m not surprised you’re a masochist, but I don’t want to hear details,” Prudence told him. “When you used your power on me, it meant the other angels couldn’t use theirs. I think you should test it out on Demonia. If it works, she’s safe.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Harvey demanded.

“I think that would be highly inappropriate,” said Nick at the same time, then murmured: “Words I thought I’d never say. Hm.”

Prudence ignored Nick. “She’s a child. An obvious candidate for a psychic hug. And she’s never shown much magical promise, so she wouldn’t be an important loss to the coven. No offence, Demonia.”

“You’re important to me,” Harvey told Demonia.

She beamed up at him through the bars, while Nick scowled behind her. “You can try. I don’t mind. I’d like to please you and be safe, and it can’t be worse than Father Blackwood’s electric leeches.”

“What,” said Harvey.

He was so tired. It was partly sleeping on a stone floor but it was partly just… witches.

“The leeches were for your own bad!” Prudence scolded. 

Harvey didn’t like Father Blackwood. He’d never met him, but he had a terrible feeling about that dude. 

“Couldn’t I try on someone who’s… not a kid?” he asked. If he could successfully psychic hug Elspeth, he’d feel all right about trying with Demonia.

Dorcas’s hand shot up in the air. “Me!”

“No!” said Prudence. “The coven can’t do without you. Not either of you,” she added to Agatha. “You’re too important.”

Which meant, Harvey was sure, _You’re important to me._

The Weird Sisters drew close to the bars, to be near Prudence. She reached in and took a piece of straw from Dorcas’s hair. Prudence must have amazing willpower, to have carved herself a home in a nest of witches.

But it left the other witches locked out of home. Harvey could see the way Demonia and Olivia were looking at the Weird Sisters. And the way Nick was looking at them, too. The more time Harvey spent with Nick, the more clear the need for positive reinforcement became.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he told Demonia. “Nick, please help me, tell me about something from books.”

It was like turning on a Goth lightbulb, mentioning a book to Nick.

“What do you need,” said Nick.

Harvey frowned. “Is there anything I could… focus on, maybe. Like a crystal, for meditating? My neighbor did a hotbox yoga class one time.”

The witches didn’t seem to know about hotbox yoga.

“A channel,” offered Nick, the smartest. “I could try an incantation to focus the magic. If that doesn’t work, next step is sigils.”

Harvey gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Nick.”

“Well,” said Nick. “It’s fine.”

Nick whispered an incantation, the words strange but cool, reassuring because they meant Nick had a handle on the magic side of things. Demonia reached out a hand trustingly through the bars and Harvey hooked his pinky around hers, trying to touch her as little as possible. That made her smile with a tiny dimple. She was so cute, Harvey thought. He wanted her safe. 

Demonia gave a little hiccup and a giggle, as though she’d been startled and tickled at the same time. 

Harvey unlinked his finger from hers. “How are you?”

“That was fun!” said Demonia. 

Gold light hung in the air for a moment, like a ray of sunlight gone rogue in the dungeon. Harvey glanced at it anxiously and Nick made a faint disbelieving sound.

“What,” said Harvey nervously. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” said Nick. “But… your eyes are glowing.”

“I think they are pretty,” contributed Demonia. Elspeth hummed in what appeared to be agreement.

“That is celestial light and it's disgusting,” said Prudence. “It’s fading now.”

“Thanks, Prudence.” Harvey was relieved. “Well. That went okay. Well done, Demonia. You were very brave. Thanks, Nick, you were very smart.”

The witches positively reinforced, Harvey looked to Olivia next, to see if she might be ready to go next, but then came the sound of Theoda’s sensible shoes on the steps. Thankfully, the gold in the air had dissipated by the time she reached the dungeon.

“Wonderful news, Haamiah,” she told Harvey. “Fetch the warlock. We worked out a way to fix the slight snag in the torture issue.” 

Harvey and Nick stood at the stone altar once again. The angels were assembled. Upon the altar lay paintbrushes the size of small swords, their wooden handles carved with runes. There was a chalice filled with gleaming liquid, like water with the sun on it. 

“Every day more weirdness,” muttered Harvey. “Here we go.”

“This is truly holy water,” announced Jerathmiel. “It purifies the aims of the wielder and makes the Lord’s purpose brighter and e’er more clear.”

Everyone talked about weird magic stuff totally making sense. Privately Harvey thought they were just trying to convince themselves. None of this made sense to him.

“First the holy symbols must be painted on his profane body,” intoned Jerathmiel. “We need to make new pathways of light.”

“I volunteer,” Seraphina exclaimed, from the front pew.

“Instantly I see where things go wrong for us,” muttered Theoda, sinking onto a pew of her own. “This is the worst celestial assignment I’ve ever had.” 

“How many of his clothes am I taking off?” Seraphina was already on her feet. “For our mission! For the Lord.”

Nick winked at her. Seraphina looked thrilled.

“You’re not taking off his clothes!” snapped Jerathmiel.

“How is anyone supposed to paint my body, then?” Nick asked, frowning over at Jerathmiel. “You’ve got to think through all the steps of a spell before you plan an experiment.”

“All right there, nerd,” said Harvey.

“I don’t accept criticism from warlock sluts!” Jerathmiel snapped.

“That’s not an okay word,” Harvey snapped back.

Prudence said it a lot, but Harvey thought it was in a friend way. Jerathmiel and Nick definitely weren’t friends, though, so it was terrible. Also, Harvey personally found it much less unsettling when Nick was a nerd than when he was—well, not a horrible word, but apparently an incurable flirt. 

“Someone must unclothe the infidel,” Theoda admitted after a moment.

Across the church, there was a loud and somewhat showy sound of protest. Then several hands were raised. 

Nick leaned back against the altar and perused the raised hands. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“Haamiah,” Theoda began, “Obviously it is distasteful, but as you, unlike some others I could mention who should know better, have a pure heart—”

He found it creepy when Theoda talked about his pure heart, but he supposed it was better than Seraphina undressing Nick, which seemed as though it could get out of hand with a quickness. 

He sighed and turned to Nick. “Is this all right?”

Naturally Nick, in his quest to be irritating on many levels, had chosen a shirt with a high collar yesterday. Harvey set his hands to work on the top button, then as it proved difficult he lifted Nick’s chin so he could get at the collar better.

Nick caught his breath and Harvey hesitated, worried. “Is this not all right?”

Nick twitched out of Harvey’s hands. 

“You know… it’s not. How about we take the binding off my wrists and I undress myself?” suggested Nick in a thin voice. 

“I don’t trust you to—” began Theoda.

“Seems preferable to the alternatives!” said Jerathmiel, and stepped up to Nick, knocking Harvey out of the way. He laid a hand against the binding on Nick’s wrists and the ropes came off, turning black as vines set on fire and leaving burn marks behind. Nick set his teeth, and gave no other sign it hurt. 

Then he lifted his wounded hands to his shirt buttons, and slowly undid them. He left his shirt on, hanging open from his shoulders. Seraphina already had her paintbrush at the ready. 

“Haamiah, you have to participate,” said Theoda. “Since it’s your pathways we are trying to course correct.”

Okay. Paintbrushes were better than torture. Harvey could cope with paintbrushes.

“Fine,” Harvey grumbled. “Nobody asks me if I wanna volunteer as tribute, but it’s whatever.”

He picked up the other paintbrush and dipped it in the truly holy water. The liquid glimmered. Harvey squinted at it suspiciously. 

“Why are you always complaining,” complained Nick. “I thought drawing was the one thing you like doing.”

“Yeah, on paper, not on people’s skin as part of a torture ritual!”

“Fuss, fuss, fuss,” drawled Nick. 

Harvey made a face. “Wow, I’m Nick, I’m so cool, I literally can’t make words form in a non-sneery way like everyone else.”

“Stop talking to him like he’s a person, Haamiah,” ordered Theoda. “And stop with the lustful eyes, Seraphina.”

“He is a person.” Harvey glared over his shoulder. “He’s an annoying person.”

“Hush so you don’t get killed by angels,” murmured Nick. “Also shut up, _you’re_ annoying.”

Were they maybe friends who did the bickering thing? Harvey wondered. He’d never particularly wanted a friend to bicker with. He wanted people to be nice to him.

Seraphina seemed very interested in her new artistic opportunities. As her paintbrush hovered over the abs, a drop of gleaming water landed on Nick’s skin and he hissed. 

Fury passing through him like light through a window, Harvey glared at her. Seraphina startled back.

“Your eyes,” she said, in a low voice.

“What about them?” Harvey sniped. “Would you please be careful!”

“I’m meant to paint holy symbols!” Seraphina sniped back, and drew a long gleaming stripe beside Nick’s nipple.

“Does it hurt?” Harvey demanded.

“No.” Nick sounded faintly puzzled.

“Hopefully it will hurt if we keep doing it,” said Seraphina. “You’re meant to help me, Haamiah!” 

Harvey grimaced at her, but she didn’t notice, since her eyes were glued to Nick’s chest.

Harvey thought Seraphina’s behavior was appalling. Harvey knew how people should act from the art class Tommy had driven him to in Riverdale, the one with life drawings. At first Harvey had been unnerved by the naked people, but actually it was art, and the vital thing was that the models be made to feel comfortable and certainly not be sexualized. The teacher had given them a talk. 

He jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“You must try to remember. He’s not a person, Haamiah,” Theoda told him, kind but firm. “He’s vermin to be exterminated. Killing a person is an unforgivable sin. When we spill his blood upon the altar, it will be holy justice. Now both of you, obey.”

She let go of his shoulder. Harvey was thankful. Her touching him made him feel stained.

It must be so much worse for Nick. He’d said, the other day, that he wanted to be with his own kind—and here were all these people, not his own kind, and they meant him harm and were being invasive. Seraphina was using her paintbrush to circle where she'd left the stripe—it was weird. Nick remained impassive, seeming more amused than anything else.

Still, it must be horrible. In the name of positive reinforcement Harvey offered, “You’re doing great. You only have to obey for a little while.”

Then he got down on his knees on the stone flags, since Seraphina appeared to have the top bit of Nick’s chest more than covered. Nick startled back, into the stone altar. The models weren’t supposed to move, it would mess up the painting.

“I’m sorry, but stay still.” Harvey hooked his free hand around a loop in Nick’s black leather belt to hold him still against the side of the altar, then glanced up at Nick. “Can you do that?”

Nick made a small noise at the back of his throat. He had his hand out, the shadow falling across Harvey’s hair. 

Theoda noticed too. “Seraphina, bind his hands again!”

Seraphina bound Nick’s hands again, the angelic ropes thorny as the branches on a rose bush and black now, only shot with gold. Harvey was always mad about the hand-binding, but less mad this time. He could understand the hair-pulling when Nick was being tortured, but Nick was being painted. So hair-pulling was just bullying.

Okay, but Nick was going through a lot. Harvey should be understanding. And at least Harvey got to draw something, though in a weird way. He started off copying Seraphina’s symbols, but they seemed kind of boring, so he added some flourishes of his own. The afternoon light came through the crimson stained glass rose-colored, and the golden holy water spread, translucent and gleaming, over Nick’s smooth olive skin without hurting him.

“How do you know I like drawing, anyway?” Harvey asked. “Did—did ’Brina mention me?”

Nick’s voice went cold. “Why would Sabrina ever mention you?” 

“Right,” Harvey whispered.

Of course. Why would she? Nick and Sabrina had better things to talk about. Harvey finished up, scrambled up and stepped back.

After some more time, in which Harvey crossed his arms, Theoda said, “That’s enough, Seraphina,” and Seraphina stepped sulkily away.

“Try now, Haamiah.” Jerathmiel sounded pleased with himself, and even more pleased at the idea of approaching pain. “This will work.”

Harvey approached the altar, dread a returning weight on his chest. Dread was becoming familiar, but it still made it hard to breathe.

“I—” he began.

“I know,” Nick whispered back. “You’re sorry, you hate this, you don’t have to keep telling me over and over—”

“I—” Harvey bit down on another apology. “Then what can I do?”

Nick paused. “Keep hold of me,” he said, almost reluctantly.

“Oh,” said Harvey. “Sure.”

He let Nick stay sitting up on the altar this time, back against Harvey’s chest, the way he had when he was getting Nick to drink water in Nick’s bed. So he could keep an arm around Nick’s shoulders, even when he laid his other hand flat against Nick’s collarbone. 

Maybe it was the skin contact, and maybe it was the holy water paint, but it was different this time. Though not in a psychic hug way. That much was instantly clear as Nick shuddered all over and started to make those helpless sounds again. With the rising noise of Nick’s moans, a golden tide seemed to be rising too. Nick’s head fell back against Harvey’s shoulder, Nick shaking against him, and gold filled Harvey’s vision from edge to edge.

“It’s not working, stop it now!” Theoda barked, and the note of panic in her voice made Harvey instinctively drop his hand. 

Nick twisted around in Harvey’s arms, so his almost-black eyes were the first thing Harvey saw through the dissipating wash of gold.

“Put your hands _back on me_ ,” Nick demanded, in the tones of a man driven to the edge of endurance. 

“You seem confused,” Harvey told him. “Probably you should have a glass of—”

“How dare you,” said Theoda, and hit Nick in the face.

Harvey turned on her, letting go of Nick entirely. “Don’t do that!”

“You hear, Theoda? His attitude is the problem,” Jerathmiel raged.

“Your idiotic holy symbols idea was the problem,” Theoda fired back. “Exposing our young ones to sin—”

“Look around you! This errant puppy of yours has destroyed the serenity of the heavenly host. Unbroken calm for threescore thousand years, and in three days what has become of us? Something must be done—”

There were angels shouting at each other from all sides, their faces blazing with righteous anger. It made Harvey think of his dad and his grandpa yelling, and he wished to slink away. Others seemed to have the same impulse. Seraphina was leading Nick from the altar, her fingers tight on the binding around his wrists. As Harvey watched, they slipped out the door of the desecrated church. Harvey followed them. 

Once he was in the Academy proper, he had to try a few doors before he found them. Behind each door was empty dormitories, beds meant for occupants trapped in a dungeon.

Then he opened the door on another dormitory, narrow white beds arranged in a circle. Nick was on his back on one of the beds, Seraphina climbing on top of him. They were kissing frantically.

Harvey froze in horror.

Seraphina’s Puritan dress was sliding terrifyingly high on her thighs as she climbed all over Nick. Golden holy symbols blurred under her roving hands, and when she undulated and pressed down against Nick’s body they both made a guttural sound.

“Oh, you filthy, disgusting wanton,” Seraphina sighed.

“And what does that make you?” Nick asked, in a throaty snarl.

Seraphina’s gold-smeared hands went up into Nick’s hair, pulling his head back with too much force. She stared down into his face. 

“Look at you,” Seraphina panted. “You’re desperate to do the will of heaven, aren’t you?”

Nick looped his bound hands behind her neck, dragged her head down for another kiss, and said “Yeah,” in a hoarse voice against her mouth. 

“Tell me how badly you want salvation,” Seraphina hissed in Nick’s ear. 

“Well, that’s enough of that,” said Harvey from the door, then came in, picked Seraphina up while touching no skin, and deposited her elsewhere. He grabbed Nick’s sleeve and yanked him to his feet. “You should be ashamed,” he told Seraphina briefly, then dragged Nick toward the door.

“Don’t tell Theoda!” Seraphina called after them. 

Harvey was so angry he could almost forget about being embarrassed, but he was aware he would be embarrassed soon. He had to get Nick back to the dungeon.

Unfortunately, he hardly got Nick past the door.

“Let go of me,” Nick said in a dangerous voice. “What do you think you’re doing, mortal? You won’t—what do you care--This is none of your concern!” 

Harvey wheeled on him. “What do I think I’m doing? What do you think you’re doing? If you think I’m going to stand by while one of my best friend’s boyfriends cheats on her—”

“Sabrina wouldn’t like any of what’s been happening for the last three days!” exclaimed Nick. “But she would understand—”

“How could she possibly!”

“Have you noticed my hands are still tied,” snapped Nick. “None of this is anything I chose. I’m trying to make the best of—of a storm of things gone absurdly wrong—”

That was a good point Nick was making about his hands being tied. Harvey had felt on sure ground with his indignation, only now he felt a lurch of dismay.

“I’m sorry,” said Harvey. “I am. Did you feel like you had to—say yes—”

“No,” said Nick. “I wanted to say yes.”

“But Sabrina...”

“Surely Sabrina wouldn’t blame me for this!” 

Oh, wow. Harvey opened his mouth and closed it. Witches and their ways were so different. Obviously, Nick thought asking for fidelity was a whim of Sabrina’s like asking not to have pepperoni on pizza. But Harvey was almost certain Sabrina would blame Nick. That she’d care very much. 

Maybe not. Maybe Harvey had never known her at all.

“She’s good,” Nick hurled at him.

“Well, of course she—”

“Why would she mind if in a garbage fire situation, I was getting some comfort—"

Now, that was an upsetting word. Harvey was suddenly very upset.

“Nick?” he asked, gently. “Have you ever… been comforted in a, um, in a way that didn’t involve… uh… sex?”

“Yes!” snarled Nick, then cut his gaze away, toward the stone wall. “Twice.”

Two times wasn’t many times at all. Harvey continued to be upset for Nick. 

“I’m not a stupid little child who wants to have its hair touched and be told it’s important. I’d rather that angel than this,” Nick announced abruptly. 

Harvey blinked. “Than what?”

He also wished to ask why Nick was suddenly talking about children in this horrifying context, but Nick was already raging on.

“I understand the angel, that cold-blooded, vicious hypocrite—”

“Um. Wow. Sexy,” Harvey said flatly. 

Nick gave him a baffled and frustrated look, as though he didn’t get why cold-blooded viciousness wouldn’t be sexy. “I’m going back to the angel.”

“Wait,” said Harvey.

Nick was already on the threshold of the bedroom, shoulder set against the door. Harvey stepped in toward him, and circled Nick’s bound wrists with his hands, trying to be careful since Nick was already hurt. The ropes dissolved into gold dust, and while Harvey was there he rubbed a thumb against the inside of Nick’s wounded wrist. For a little comfort.

“Oh, I hate you,” said Nick, low and completely sincere. He used his newly freed hands to open the door to the waiting angel, and slam it behind him. 

“Screw you, too!” Harvey told the slammed door.

When they got out of here and the witches were rescued, he was—he was telling Sabrina! He didn’t care. She deserved to know. 

For now he was leaving Nick to it. He didn’t want to be involved. He was already involved in horrifying situations far too much these days. He would go check on the little witch kids and he wouldn’t bother with Nick any longer.

He stalked back into the dungeon, at the bottom of the steps before he noticed what was happening.

Jerathmiel was in the dungeon, locking the cage door with one hand. The other hand was fastened hard on Demonia’s frail arm. He was dragging her, and she was fighting him, but she was helpless.

The world went cold and clear around Harvey, the way it had once before. There was nothing else to be done. Harvey needed a gun, but he didn’t have one. 

So he lifted a hand, and spoke a word.

The ray of light that had hung around the child this morning appeared again, but this time it wasn’t wrapping around anyone, wasn’t hazy or soft, and it certainly wasn’t warm. This time the light shone as if on a weapon that wasn’t there. Light like a sword arced through the dimness of that dungeon room. 

Jerathmiel made a single wet sound. He let Demonia go, and dropped to the stone floor like a puppet with his strings cut. Demonia fled back toward the bars, and Prudence’s outstretched hand. Harvey moved toward Jerathmiel, purposefully.

Only there was nothing left to do. Blood was coming out of Jerathmiel’s eyes, and his ears, and his nose and his mouth. He was dead. Harvey had killed him. Now Harvey thought about it, Jerathmiel had twitched on the way down, the way Tommy had the instant after Harvey pulled the trigger.

Killing a person is an unforgivable sin, Theoda had said. 

One of the witches was saying something. Harvey couldn’t really hear over the roar of blood in his ears. Time and sound had both gone a little funny, but what he could see was very clear. He stood looking down at the dead face some more.

Through the roar of blood, there came a sound of footsteps on the stairs. Distantly, Harvey felt terror that he would have to kill someone else. Close up, there was only grim resignation.

“—And another thing,” began Nick in a furious voice. 

Then his voice cut off, as though a second door had slammed on him. He stopped storming down the steps and stood there wavering, his dark eyes traveling from Harvey to the body at Harvey’s feet, and then to the witches watching from behind bars. The burning light of anger was suddenly quenched on Nick’s face.

“Our witch-hunter seems to have got broken somehow. Do something!” hissed Elspeth. “Fix him. Do something a mortal would like!”

Prudence hushed her. Nick approached Harvey, walking softly, as though he was approaching a scared animal.

“Hi,” Nick said, almost tentative. “Harvey? How—how are you?”

There was something terribly wrong with what Nick had just said, but Harvey couldn’t work it out right now. He stared dully. 

“I can,” offered Nick, “I can make the b—” he cut himself off when Harvey flinched—"that—go away.”

“Not yet,” said Harvey.

There was something important. Harvey’s eye caught the gleam of keys, hanging from Jerathmiel’s limp hand. That was it. He stooped down, and picked them up. He forgot why they were important, but they were. He put the keys in his pocket.

“Shall I do it now?” Nick asked, and Harvey nodded. 

Nick passed a hand over the body, and it vanished clean away. Like a snark, or a boojum, in the book. Softly and silently. It was a little better, once the body was gone.

Nick reached out his spellcasting hand, and when Harvey didn’t flinch away, he took Harvey’s hand. Harvey’s fingers clutched onto Nick’s hand reflexively, and Nick’s thumb swept the inside of Harvey’s wrist, comforting. That was Nick: you only had to teach him something once. Harvey looked down and saw the long sleeve of his brother’s sweater, the warm soft garment he’d worn to feel close to Tommy, stained with blood. Horror made it hard to breathe again.

“Come on, farm boy,” Nick said, still speaking in that hesitant voice that was trying but not great at being soft. “I think you need to not be here. Come with me.”

‘Farm boy’ was for when Harvey wasn’t in trouble at all, so Harvey went. The world was still sort of muddy, except for the afterglow of light at the back of Harvey’s eyes, but Nick’s hold on his hand was firm and reassuring. Harvey clung on, though he wasn’t sure where they were going.

Wherever Nick was headed, they never got there. Instead, as they walked through the scarlet-lined halls of the Academy, they saw a small figure pass them by. She wore a silk blouse and a short skirt, the new clothes she wore now for Nick. The light from a candlebra caught her hair, making it gleam pure white, and as she turned there was an eerie glow in her face. As though twin moons had been placed in her eyesockets and were shining there, controlling the tides.

She was on tip-toes in her new high-heeled Mary Janes, and appeared to be attempting sneaking, but then her glowing eyes widened in recognition.

“Harvey!” Sabrina cried at the top of her lungs, and ran headlong into his arms. 

The sheer velocity of her lunge made him let go of Nick’s hand. Harvey’s arms went around her by instinct, encircling her while he was still so dazed he could hardly believe she was there. Only she was, her fine-boned shoulder in the circle of one arm, her tiny waist in the circle of the other. He drew her to him and held her tight.

The words tumbled out of her mouth, and with every word the world got clearer, and closer. “Harvey, how are you here, what happened to you, is that blood? If anyone hurt you, I’ll kill them.” 

She was here. He couldn’t believe she was here, a guiding star at the moment he’d felt most lost. She was a miracle that way. Always. Harvey made a small wounded sound, trying to tell her—but he couldn’t tell her. He hid his face in her moon-bright hair. 

“Harvey,” Sabrina said in a lost, muffled little voice, against his brother’s sweater.

“Oh,” Harvey murmured into her hair. “Oh, ’Brina, ’Brina.” He felt punched in the heart, but in a glad way. 

Oh, ’Brina.

Wait. Oh no, Nick! 

This was very bad. This was extremely not good. Nick had small furious brain tantrums whenever he didn’t get attention at normal times. This was not a normal time. If he’d had to watch Roz fling herself into Nick’s arms–well, Harvey would be super surprised, he didn’t know if Nick and Roz had officially met—but the main thing was, Harvey wouldn’t have liked it. 

And Nick might get the wrong idea. Harvey lifted his head, and saw Nick standing alone under one of the flickering scarlet torches. The expression on his face was touched with flame. 

Nick didn’t understand, because he hadn’t known Sabrina that long. He didn’t know about how laser focused she could get on a problem. It was why she was so great at school projects. In order to make her shift focus, she sometimes needed a nudge.

Harvey nudged her. He kept holding onto her but he put her at a distance, while she blinked up at him, uncomprehending about why they should be separated.

“Nick’s been tortured,” he said in her ear, and watched her sweet face fill with desperate love and concern. For someone else.

Harvey let go. She didn’t need another nudge before she was dashing toward Nick, an arrow flying to a target.

“Nick,” she said, laying a hand briefly against Nick’s cheek before she drew her darkly-painted fingernails—those were new, too, those were for Nick too—through Nick’s curly hair. 

Nick touched her face, mirroring Sabrina’s gesture very precisely. Like affection to Nick was a strange land where he didn’t know the customs. He did so with a small smile, as though he was happy to be there. 

“Hey, Spellman,” Nick murmured. 

Sabrina’s glowing eyes slid to the marks on Nick’s wrists. “Did those angels do this?” she asked in her clear confident voice. “I will turn their bones to ash.”

“I know you will, babe,” Nick told her. 

Sabrina’s eyes slid down, to the gold marks on Nick’s chest. It was, obviously, okay for Sabrina to look at them as it hadn’t been for Seraphina. Nick wasn’t her model: he was her boyfriend. They loved each other. That made everything all right.

They kissed then, both moving in at once in perfect sync. They weren’t holding hands or holding each other, but the kiss looked like clinging, somehow. Perhaps this was how witches clung. The kiss went deeper and Sabrina had handfuls of Nick’s hair. She had never kissed Harvey like that. 

This was a private moment. Harvey should leave.

Harvey used to hope Sabrina’s laser focus would only ever be on him, that way. But her single-minded brilliant intensity was for someone else now. And Harvey couldn’t even be mad: he got it. They made a lot of sense together, those two. The cool witch couple.

Nick and Sabrina, dancing like pros at the sweethearts ball, when all Harvey had ever been able to do dance-wise was twirl a girl and hope she didn’t crash into a wall or anything. Nick and Sabrina at the river at New Year’s, his hair dark as the midnight and hers like the shining, falling snow, and--what was that? Harvey stopped and leaned against a wall, trying to piece broken thoughts together in his mind. Where had Harvey been at New Year’s, actually? No, he couldn’t deal with any more weirdness now, he wouldn’t think about it anymore.

He was at the entrance to the dungeon before he remembered he should’ve told Sabrina about Nick making out with angels. No, maybe he shouldn’t have. 

He sat down on the dungeon steps for a moment, huddled up with his head against his knees. He couldn’t have a panic attack. He used to think about Sabrina, or Tommy, when an attack threatened—having sure ground, someone who was certain as a star to him, comfort—but he couldn’t think of either of them now. He could only think about Roz: his last hope. 

Roz and the way she loved books, the way she would explain things to him and never act like she thought he was dumb. How she’d had a vision of them together, and mercifully decided to give him a chance. How she’d told him about her visions, right away, because she wanted there to be truth between them. That was all he wanted, too. He could trust that bond. He could trust her. Roz, with her pretty hair that she had to argue with the church ladies about, and her eyes which seeing or not were always wise. Far more beautiful than angels. 

Roz, Roz, Roz, his Rosalind. Thank God for Roz. 

Nobody would ever look at him and Roz and think they made sense together. They’d look at them and think the same thing everyone must have thought about him and Sabrina: how did that guy ever get so lucky? But perhaps this was luck Harvey could keep. 

He would get the witches out, and then he would go to Roz. He’d tell her that he loved her—no, that he was in love with her. She’d hold onto him so he didn’t fall apart. She’d hold his hand. He’d show her every day how grateful he was to her, for being the only person alive who would choose him. 

Once he escaped this awful place, he would never leave Roz’s side again. 

Slowly, Harvey climbed to his feet, then descended the stairs with the keys in his hand.

“Come on,” he told the witches. “We’re getting out.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabrina is the Dark Lord's sword. Harvey is distressed to hear about sex demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for firstaudrina, on her birthday. I am so sorry it is late... it ran long! Here's to my fave CAOS fic writer, and a total jewel.

CHAPTER NINE

Harvey fit the keys in the lock, and opened the cage door. As it swung open, he knelt down and hugged little Demonia, who gave a startled squeak as if she was a stuffed toy.

“I’m sorry you had to see that scary thing,” Harvey told her.

“What scary thing?” asked Demonia politely. “Oh, when you killed the angel? That was very thoughtful of you! I didn’t want to go with him.”

He couldn’t blame her for that. He hugged her tighter. She stood like a stick against him, but when he let her go she seemed disappointed. He gave her his hand. Prudence was already organizing the witches. 

Sabrina’s sweet voice drifted down the steps. “Harvey?” 

He would’ve thought the romantic reunion might take longer.

“Here, ’Brina!” Harvey called, then as she came tripping down the steps he redirected her attention. “This is a jailbreak.”

Sabrina’s already-glowing eyes glowed more. “Great idea. Listen up, everybody, we need to get to my Aunt Hilda. She and Ambrose have warded the Spellman house and we can regroup there!”

“Why did you wander off?” snapped Nick, following Sabrina down the stairs and casting a baleful look at Harvey over her shoulder. “Sabrina was worried.”

Why did he ever try to be thoughtful? Harvey just rolled his eyes and followed Sabrina and Prudence’s lead, down through the stone corridors to the underground passage. 

“Sabrina believed you might have run off and done some new bonehead thing,” Nick continued.

“Sabrina wouldn’t talk about me that way,” Harvey stated, trying to believe it in spite of the voice in his head that told him, _she lied to you for years, she knew you’d believe her, because your dad was right and everybody knows you’re stupid._

He thought there were white beams in the earthen roof above their heads, but then he realized they were bones. Nobody else seemed disturbed in any way. He could hear Sabrina’s voice, bright and cheerful, floating back to them.

“Why does the ceiling upset you?” asked Nick, in a weary tone. If he was so bored by Harvey and Harvey’s stupid mortal fears, he was welcome to go and stay away.

“It’s all bones,” muttered Harvey.

“Yes,” agreed Nick. 

He and Demonia were both staring at Harvey now, waiting for the explanation of why that was bad. Harvey hated being underground anywhere, it reminded him of the mines, but he’d learned to tolerate the mines and he had to bear this too. At least Tommy hadn’t died down here. If he could walk the stony path his brother had walked, on the last day of his life—and he had to, his father expected it--he could do this. 

Up ahead, Sabrina told Prudence with pride, “My first sentry!”

In the gloom, beneath the bones, there was a glimmer of flannel. There was someone short as Sabrina, running past her with a glance and a nod.

“Theo,” Harvey said, with heartfelt gratitude. “Theo!”

“Harv!”

Theo was hurtling toward him. Harvey opened up his arms and wrapped Theo in them, got his head down in the direction of Theo’s shoulder. Theo had his dad’s rifle, which he wasn’t supposed to have, and he was wearing his Tuesday flannel shirt and he was safe and normal and beloved. It was so good to see him.

“We’ve been going nuts with worry,” Theo told him, detaching to Harvey’s disappointment and hitting Harvey on the arm affectionately to make up for it. “Then Sabrina showed up with her eyes glowing, and she said she needed help, she needed mortals because the angels know a spell to turn everything they touch into hallowed ground. So we’ve been surveiling the angels and working out where they were keeping the witches.”

“We,” said Harvey, with tentative hope. 

“Roz,” said Theo, beaming. “Harv, wait until you see her—” 

“Why does that new mortal get a hug just for showing up,” muttered Demonia. 

“People choose favorites and they’re the ones who get the affection,” Nick explained to her. “If that feels unfair, the world’s unfair.”

“Nick!” exclaimed Harvey.

“Children need to know,” said Nick. 

“Demonia, this is Theo, you will like him very much, he’s the best,” said Harvey, while Demonia lurked behind Nick and gave Theo hostile eyes. 

“Hey, uh, Demonia,” said Theo valiantly. His gaze kept drifting back to Nick. “Hi Nick? I’m Theo. We met briefly at the sweethearts dance.” 

“I know,” said Nick.

Actually, Harvey recalled Theo had done a lot of staring at Nick then too. Of course, the reason Theo was staring right now was because Nick’s shirt was still open and all the blurred paint was visible. Nick looked like the surrealistic cover of a romance novel.

“Do up your shirt!” commanded Harvey. “What must Theo think of you!”

“Don’t do it on my account,” mumbled Theo, and Nick grinned like a knife in the dark. 

He didn’t look particularly surprised, and he didn’t do up his shirt. 

“Sorry,” he drawled, not sounding sorry. “Harry was painting holy symbols on me earlier.”

“Who is—” began Theo.

Harvey said, “The angels made us!”

“Angels seem weird,” Theo commented, and added to Nick, narrow-eyed and loyal—Harvey loved him so much-- “His name is Harvey.”

“Is it?” Nick asked. “This is brand new information.”

Theo gave Nick an unfriendly look, then set his shoulders and visibly decided not to have the fight now. He’d told Harvey he was working on his anger management, ever since Billy had fallen down the stairs and broken his leg. Harvey was, of course, proud of Theo for this. But Harvey was always proud of Theo.

It had been days since Harvey had seen Theo. It felt like weeks. He stuck close to him, close enough that their shoulders were pressed together. It was blessed relief to be with someone familiar and beloved, someone who wouldn’t lie to him and would love him back. 

“How is Ambrose?” Harvey whispered, and at the name quietly spoken, Prudence stopped leading with Sabrina and fell back, not walking with them but close enough to hear clearly. 

“He’s well. Sabrina healed him,” said Theo. “Sabrina healed—”

Sabrina, with her nose scrunched in the cute way it was when she was puzzled or pleased, followed Prudence with an air of interest. Prudence gave her an impatient look, like a disdainful panther pursued by an annoying kitten who would soon try to boop the panther with its paw.

“Did you hear, Prue,” said Dorcas. “Ambrose is all right! I am so pleased, he is so comely—”

“I certainly wasn’t listening!” announced Prudence.

“How well I remember his shapely unclad form in the dungeon,” Dorcas proceeded. “And of course, upon that memorable occasion when you and I and Ambrose and Agatha and Luke and Nick indulged in carnal delights together—”

In the dim light, Theo’s blue eyes went sky-wide.

“Theo, witches are kinda… I’ll explain later,” said Harvey. “Different, um, social conventions! Mores! We’re not judging.”

“Sure, we’re not judging,” said Theo. “We’re not judging with body paint, apparently.”

He grinned. Theo was the only person alive who still made fun of Harvey in a way that didn’t hurt. 

Harvey nudged him. “Hush, you weren’t there, you don’t know what was going on!”

“See the thing is, Harv, you know how sometimes you are there and you don’t know what’s going on, let’s not forget the—”

“—Do not bring up the Carl thing again—”

“—the Carl thing,” said Theo. “Yep, so, listen up witches, because this is extremely funny and I’ve never had the chance to talk about it before—”

Harvey was scandalized. He felt alone in this.

“Theo, we cannot out people!”

“Harv, it’s not outing people if it’s witches, they don’t know anybody and they can’t use the internet.”

“I could use an internet if someone gave me one,” muttered Nick.

“So, Carl is a closet case,” said Theo.

Total bafflement on all sides. Demonia seized this opportunity provided by Prudence’s distraction to lift her hand up to Harvey’s so he would hold it some more. He took it, and swung it in his own.

“He’s into guys, sexually, but he hides it?” Theo offered.

“Ohhhh,” said Nick. “Because mortals think the false god commands them not to be interested in members of the same sex? At the movies-- A mortal told me that once.”

“Ah,” said Dorcas, glancing over her shoulder. “I remember Sabrina had us take some pictures of football players in the mines to exploit this whimsical mortal attitude. Very humorous.”

Sabrina coughed. “Not my finest hour, maybe. But they deserved it!”

Now Harvey was staring in total bafflement too. It was nice to be at one with the witches on something, he guessed, though he feared dire humiliation was on the way.

“Sad for Carl,” said Nick. “Only gets to be with the ladies. Oh well, the ladies are fun too.”

“He doesn’t want to be with the ladies, Nick,” said Theo patiently, though he was making eyebrow gestures toward Nick and then Sabrina, which Harvey was gonna have to answer later. 

The witches all looked confused once more.

“Please don’t try to explain the heterosexuals to us again,” Prudence warned Harvey. “It upsets everybody.”

“This isn’t about the heterosexuals!” said Harvey. 

Theo continued with his story. “So, Carl asks Harvey to meet him in an alley. Like, an actual alley. And Harv genuinely believes this is an invitation to a bro hang.”

“That’s what Carl said it was!” Harvey protested.

“So he brings me along,” Theo continued relentlessly. “Then followed the most embarrassing half an hour of my life, in which I knew I was the only person in that alley who even slightly understood what was going on.”

Carl had been pretty unpleasant since that day, Harvey knew that much. He hoped Carl hadn’t been meaner to Theo because of it.

“Wait, you didn’t know?” Nick asked. “But this guy Carl does a terrible job of hiding it!”

All the witches had stopped looking confused and were united in cackling at Harvey, as was Theo. Wow, Harvey was so happy he could bring them all together. Not. 

“How do you know that, you were at our school for like an hour!” said Harvey.

“He was undressing me with his eyes for that full hour, and made certain comments at the snack table,” drawled Nick.

“In his defence, you were wearing that tuxedo,” said Theo.

“We were all wearing tuxedos!” Harvey yelled.

“The tuxedo looks different on him,” Theo mumbled. 

“I thought he looked dashing myself,” Sabrina agreed with Theo. 

Sabrina’s dark eyes sparkled over in Nick’s direction. She laid her hand on his arm, and Nick looked deeply pleased. 

Right, Theo thought Nick was hot. Everyone did. That was fine, it was just… he’d figured only Theo, in the whole world, might not believe Sabrina had traded way up. And now it stung a little bit, to realize Theo must think so too. 

“Wait a second, Carl’s gay?” Sabrina’s voice was shocked.

“Sweet summer satanic child,” Harvey murmured, but very quietly, because he wanted to make the nerdy joke but not insult Sabrina. 

Nick caught it, and narrowed his eyes, and before Harvey could explain that he hadn’t meant any offence to Sabrina or Satanism, he said, “Hilarious story, Theo. I’m sure you have a thousand more in which Harry proves just how stupid he is about life, love and everything else.”

“Hey, wait a minute—” began Theo.

“His name is Harvey,” said Sabrina. 

“Sorry we don’t all make out with angels at the drop of a paintbrush,” Harvey snapped back. 

Sabrina’s little indrawn breath was like hearing the sound of a candle being blown out. The gloom and the bones remained the same, but it felt as though they were all left in darkness.

“I’m sorry, ’Brina,” Harvey said. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Did you make out with an angel, Nick?” asked Sabrina.

“No—” said Harvey.

Sabrina’s hand had fallen away from Nick’s arm. Nick’s eyes were bitter, staring emptily into the dark. 

“Yes,” said Nick. “It’s been a wild few days, Sabrina. Why are we even talking about making out? I have a lot more to tell you than that. Your heavensent witch hunter, your little mortal love? He’s been using celestial magic to make me feel like I’m coming my brains out. On a stone altar, in front of an army of angels. Every day since we were taken.”

Harvey’s voice felt a long way away. He had to go and get it, so he could speak. “… What?” 

Nick threw him a challenging, furious look, then slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans as if to say: bomb thrown, job done. His eyebrows had turned into dark slashes, giving him the aspect of a devil.

Memories of torture on the stone altar returned to Harvey, in unwelcome vivid detail. Especially the sounds. Moans. And the hair-grabbing. Harvey felt a hot flush of awareness, starting at the back of his neck and spreading.

“… oh my God,” said Harvey. “Oh Jesus.”

Protests rose from Agatha and Elspeth.

“The children—!”

“—your beautiful, filthy mouth!” 

Both Agatha and Elspeth seemed rather removed from the situation. 

“Right!” Sabrina grabbed at certainty and ran with it. “Harvey clearly didn’t know!”

“… is this Carl with Satanism…” Theo murmured to himself. 

“He can’t be blamed,” Sabrina raged on. 

“Oh no. Not your pure, precious Harvey,” spat Nick. “He’d never do anything wrong, you’d never believe the worst of _him_ —”

When Prudence wheeled on them, the whole group walking down the passage halted.

“Are you people seriously having relationship drama in the very midst of our desperate escape attempt?” she demanded.

Sabrina’s chin lifted. “You’re right, Prudence! I have far more important things to think of than some boy you already warned me about, and who I already knew flirts with everyone. It’s not as if this is a surprise. Harvey, I’m sorry you were involved in this whole sordid business. Nick, if you don’t want me to never forgive you, you’d better make yourself useful. Collect up the most vulnerable members of the coven and weave them about with protections! I’ll take the lead. Theo and Harvey, guard the rear of the group!”

She charged forward, knocking other witches to the side as though she was a tiny pale bowling ball and they were the pins. 

“Hey, Nick,” snapped Theo. “I don’t know about all the magic stuff, but stop calling Harvey stupid.”

Harvey was passionately grateful to Theo for trying to stand up for him, even though it was clear Harvey had been stupid beyond words.

Nick’s lip curled. “Why would I do that? He is--”

“Because,” said Theo. “You sound like his dad.”

Nick opened his mouth, then closed it with a snarl. Nick, his face set and his eyes black, moved forward with his hand on Demonia’s shoulder. She gave a faint squeak of protest at being parted from Harvey, but Harvey gave her an encouraging nudge and a nod in spite of the shock ringing a bell in his skull.

“So Sabrina’s new boyfriend…” Theo said, after a moment. 

Harvey’s voice got muddled with humiliation and stuck in his throat. “I really didn’t know.”

“I believe you, Harv,” said Theo. “But he’s like—bisexual? All the witches are bisexual?”

“I think they don’t have concepts like that,” Harvey said, after some thought. “And so it’s a case by case basis.”

“That’s actually pretty cool,” said Theo. “So—Sabrina?”

“No idea,” said Harvey.

They’d never talked about liking anyone else. He’d never thought about anyone else. They’d seemed all in all to each other, once. But she’d thought about Nick, he was sure of that, so maybe she’d thought about other people. Or perhaps it was only Nick.

“What I mean is, Sabrina’s got herself a guy who had a, like, thing with this girl Prudence and Prudence’s friends—“

“My sisters!” Prudence interjected.

“--and Sabrina’s own cousin and some guy called Luke? Wow, Sabrina does love herself a challenge, doesn’t she?”

Harvey’s laugh got caught up in his throat. “I guess what she had before bored her, and she wanted a change.”

Theo’s eyes went wide, and troubled. He reached out a hand for Harvey’s arm. “Harv…”

Harvey coughed and pretended not to see the reach. “It doesn’t matter.”

It didn’t. He had Roz now. 

“So who’s Luke, anyway?” asked Theo. 

“We hate Luke,” said Harvey automatically.

“Uh,” Theo said. “Why?”

Harvey frowned. “I don’t… I don’t remember.”

He just knew he was certain of it, the way he was sure about not liking Father Blackwood. God, he was tired of being stupid and not knowing things. 

“Prudence…” Harvey said softly, to her bleached hair up ahead in the gloom. “Did you ever do a memory spell on me?”

When she turned, he saw the glint of her teeth.

“No!” snarled Prudence. “And how do you know I never did? Because if I had, you wouldn’t be here now. You would be away from here where a mortal should be. I would not be masochistically and moronically triggering your memories by keeping you around!”

Theo and Harvey exchanged suspicious looks. It sure sounded like someone had done a memory spell on Harvey. Whoever it was, Harvey was so mad. He was having enough trouble keeping up as it was.

“And you should stop refusing to sleep with people,” Dorcas chipped in, encouraged by Prudence’s condemnation. “It’s hurtful and unnecessary. I certainly didn’t enjoy it when you did it to me.”

Theo choked on air and came up spluttering, “Wow, you had such a wild time among the witches, Harv!”

Harvey was frowning over at Dorcas, her red hair in the dark making him think of… her red hair in the low lights of his kitchen. He was so bewildered with horror, he couldn’t even be embarrassed. “You never tried to sleep with me. Did you?”

She had, though. She’d been in Harvey’s kitchen, and she’d tried to kiss him, and she’d…

Prudence gave her sister a look of horror. “Speaking of morons. I cannot endure more emotional revelations in the tunnel!” 

Dorcas in his kitchen, because Nick had brought her there. Prudence in his kitchen… because Nick had brought her there. This had all happened.

“ _Nick_ did the memory spell on me,” said Harvey, terrible light dawning. “He came to my house after Christmas, and he asked me to teach him about mortal dating because he liked Sabrina, and I agreed to help him because he’d helped me with the evil ghosts and because… because I was so lonely. And he—and I took him to the movies and we met Luke there and Luke was a jerk to me and… and oh no, I _am_ Harry.”

“You’re still Harvey,” Theo reminded him, sounding worried about Harvey’s brain. “You took Nick to the movies--?”

“For practice!” Harvey exclaimed. “For Sabrina!” 

Theo’s voice went funny and hollow. “Oh, I see. This is much, much worse than Carl.”

The memories fell in Harvey’s mind like dominoes, each event triggering the next. He’d been sure Roz and Theo were done with him, as well as Sabrina, that they would pick her to be friends with and not him. He’d been all alone, missing Tommy, and then for a few strange days there’d been Nick, and he’d brought Prudence and her baby brother… wow, Harvey had babysat a teeny witch while Nick and Prudence and Sabrina dealt with an evil magic situation…

“Where’s Judas?” he asked.

Theo looked even more worried about Harvey’s brain.

“My baby brother,” Prudence explained briefly. “He’s fine. Father Blackwood—I mean, Father and the new Lady Blackwood—Zelda Spellman that was—took him away to present to family on their honeymoon.”

Zelda was married to Father Blackwood? Harvey thought in horror, but he couldn’t express that horror because this was Prudence’s dad. No wonder he’d liked Prudence right away. He’d liked her before. He’d liked the baby. He’d liked Nick. 

He hadn’t liked Dorcas. She and Agatha—their sister’s black head was almost lost to the shadows, but Harvey could still see her—Agatha was walking up ahead, very fast. Dorcas was right there in front of him. 

Harvey stared at Dorcas’s face as it grew pale. He felt strange, suddenly, in the same way he had at the stone altar, but he didn’t want to protect anyone this time.

“You killed my brother,” he murmured, very low. 

“Harv!” Theo’s voice was a terrified whisper. “Your eyes.”

There was light in his eyes, brimming up and spilling out. Like the wave of light that had moved in the dungeon and killed the angel. Theo didn’t need to point it out. Harvey was aware of the light. He could see better with it, see Agatha clearly now. She couldn’t escape. Tommy had been left down in the dark, but now Harvey could make it bright again. Bright as judgement, bright as light on an executioner’s axe. 

The light fell on Dorcas, and she flinched away. Prudence stepped forward, braced herself, and did not flinch. 

“Move aside,” Harvey told Prudence. 

She said, “No.”

Harvey could feel the path he’d made between them. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, then. It seemed like a long time ago.

“I could kill you,” he said, in amazement that he could, in amazement that he was saying it.

Prudence’s back was as straight as a sword, and she stood like a shield before Dorcas without giving an inch. “Do you think I wouldn’t die for my sister?”

“I would have died for my brother,” said Harvey. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t given the chance. You’re lucky.” He glanced at Dorcas, peeping fearfully over Prudence’s shoulder, and the last of the light touched her bared teeth. “And you’re lucky,” he added. “That your sister isn’t like you. And that I’m not like you, either. I wouldn’t hurt somebody’s family.” 

He turned his back on them, and looked at Theo, who was staring up at him. For just a moment, Theo gulped, and Harvey was overcome with terror that Theo might be afraid of him. Then Theo got a firmer grip on his gun.

“Can you do sexy things and murder things with your angel powers?” he asked Harvey. “Am I the muggle of the group? That sucks!”

He leaned into Theo, and hugged him, hooking his chin over Theo’s shoulder by bending almost in half. It was sacrilege that Theoda had a name like Theo’s: Harvey knew which one of them was good and worthy. 

“I love you,” he said fiercely. “Will you be okay if I leave you with the witches?”

Harvey loved him so much, he would’ve died for him right then, but he had something else to do, and it was really important. He should’ve done it right away, as soon as he realized: he should have done it first. 

He shouldered his way through the witches, seeing Prudence run past, on the edges of the herd like a shepherding lion, making for Agatha. But Harvey wasn’t going for Agatha.

He found Nick in the middle of the group, with Demonia and Olivia, teaching them incantations. Nick’s eyes were on Sabrina, walking at the head of the group with her chin held high, but Sabrina hadn’t even glanced back at him.

“Nick,” Harvey said, rushing to tell him before he could say anything else. “I remember about the memory spell. I know what happened now.”

After a split second of what might have been shock, Nick raised an eyebrow. “Did you? Well, Agatha’s over there, witch-hunter. Go show your true colors.” 

“No, I have to speak with you right away--”

“I don’t think that’s fair!” Nick exclaimed, then shook his head so hard his hair went curlier. “But fine. Fine! Sure, forget Dorcas and Agatha, come at me and tell me how you feel about witches. I don’t care. Go right ahead—"

“I’m so sorry, Nick,” said Harvey. “I was really wrong. If you let me, I’ll make it up to you somehow. I swear.”

There was an odd pause. 

After a moment, Nick said, in a small lost voice, “What?”

Yes, Nick was right, Harvey hadn’t been clear.

“I asked you to do the memory spell,” Harvey breathed, horrified with himself. 

The last memory of those strange few days had fallen like the last domino in his mind. Game over. 

“I was so lonely and miserable I hung out with witches, and—it was okay. You were people. I mean, weird people, but you were… you tried to be nice to me. I can see that now. You walked with me to Tommy’s grave.”

It had meant a lot to Harvey, at the time. It still did.

“I just felt sorry for you,” Nick snarled, “because you were so pathetic—”

“Yes, of course, I know that,” said Harvey. “It was kind of you. I meant what I told you, back then. You’re a good guy. You still are. I know that it wasn’t fair of me, to ask you to do the spell, if—if we’d ever been friends even for a minute. Theo told me once that I… that if you grow up with a dad like mine, sometimes you set people tests to show they don’t care about you, as if you want them to fail. I didn’t think you’d do the spell!”

But Nick had.

“I just did the spell to get rid of you,” said Nick. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

He didn’t blame Nick at all. He’d messed up so badly. It was like how he’d been mean to Sabrina, because magic was scary and Roz was in pain and he figured Sabrina wasn’t. He was so used to thinking of himself as someone who other people hurt, he hadn’t thought of how he might hurt someone else. 

“I’m sure you don’t,” said Harvey. “It must have seemed as though I didn’t like you at all—”

“I don’t care if you like me!” Nick snapped. 

That was obvious, but it didn’t mean Harvey could go around behaving in a hurtful way. He remembered now, standing with Nick on a bridge, asking him to do the spell. Nick in the snow in his fancy black jacket. Nick hadn’t wanted to do it, not at first.

“Of course not, but I did like you. I do like you. I did want to be friends. And I know there was evil magic, and you wanted Dorcas to babysit me or whatever, and you thought I wouldn’t find out what she’d done, and that was awful--”

“I already apologized for that, and I will not apologize again,” Nick said in a flat voice. 

“You don’t have to,” said Harvey. “What I did was worse. What I did was… was cowardly. I asked you to erase my memory because I was—I was so messed up from losing my brother, and losing Sabrina, and it seemed like it was all because of magic, and it felt like it was all going to be a disaster. If I didn’t forget you I would have loved you, and Prudence, and the little witch baby, and then—”

_Then you would all have lied to me and hurt me and killed people. Well, probably not the baby._

“Well, why couldn’t you _do that_ , then,” Nick demanded, his voice tearing in his throat, “instead of all this mess--”

Nick had taken his eyes off Sabrina for a moment, so he could yell at Harvey. Just then, up ahead, Harvey saw the glint of gold light on Sabrina’s white hair.

“Wait, Nick,” said Harvey. “I’m also really sorry about what I said to Sabrina, and I will explain it to her and you guys will be fine, and once again I apologize for everything and I’ll do whatever you want, but shut up. There’s something wrong.”

It took one glance for Nick to see it too. 

“Celestial magic,” he shouted, pushing at the kids. “Coming from the wrong direction! Turn around. This is a trap!”

The gold light reflected on Sabrina’s hair was chasing along the walls, and turning the bones above to brief gold.

“Theo said—he said the angels can make anywhere hallowed ground,” Harvey breathed. “They’re turning the whole tunnel into holy ground—”

“This should have been mentioned to me as a possibility before!” said Prudence, striding past, pushing her sisters. “Go, go, go—”

Up ahead, he saw silhouettes against the gold, and behind them fallen stones. The angels had caused a rockslide. They would be trapped and crushed in here. Like Tommy had been, when the mines collapsed. With a visceral twist of terror, Harvey remembered being in those mines, remembered Tommy trying to save him. 

“Nick,” said Harvey, not moving, as the witches streamed past in a panicked rush, “Sabrina won’t go. She was baptized like mortals are. You can’t… we can’t let her--”

“I don’t let her do anything,” said Nick.

“We can’t let her get hurt,” Harvey said, imploring, and a little of the rage in Nick’s face faded. For Sabrina, Nick would try: of course he would. “I can walk on hallowed ground, as well as she can. Theo will help us. But if I could help with the magic stuff, if you could help me, like when you said the incantation before… that would be helping her.”

“Yes?” Nick said. “You charge forward into the light, and I hang back in the shadows, and oh, that looks like I’m helping her.”

“It doesn’t matter what it looks like,” said Harvey, “it matters what’s true—”

The light was like burning now. Sabrina was standing all alone, fearless and so small, as the angels advanced. 

“Oh, go then,” Nick snarled. 

Harvey grasped Nick’s shoulder as he went past, with no more than an instant to mean _thank you_. 

Theoda was at the front of the angelic army.

“Seize the abomination,” she said. “Seize the traitor to God. Kill them all.”

She waved a hand, and Nick was chanting, far away, but Harvey tried to hold onto his voice speaking Latin curses and not Theoda’s voice calling righteously for blood. The angels had crossbows, to deal with the threat they thought Sabrina posed.

When the arrows let fly, Harvey held up a hand protectively, as he might have to shield Sabrina’s eyes from the sun. The arrows tumbled like swatted flies.

Almost all the arrows.

Only one arrow hit Sabrina, but it was a hit to the chest. She staggered, blood blooming on her shirt, and Harvey thought she would fall. She was muttering something, and it didn’t sound like Latin. It sounded older, and darker.

The shadows in the tunnel were so deep, and the light blazing there burned. Moving through it seemed like moving through stormy water, another element, and a dangerous one. But he could get through it. He had light brimming in his eyes, and there seemed to be light pressing down on him, heavy against his back, moving in the air around him.

“—I am the Dark Lord’s sword,” said Sabrina in a voice of thunder, her feet no longer touching the ground, and Harvey didn’t care who or what she was, as long as he could get to her, as long as he could be with her. Even if it was only to hold her in his arms, before they all turned to ash.

Because he’d loved her from the first moment he saw her, small and bright as a star in the morning of their very first day of school, and he loved her now shining with unearthly light. He’d never been able to help that. 

There’s no flying without you, Sabrina, he’d told her once, and been so proud of himself for saying something romantic to her, something almost beautiful like she deserved. Only he’d been a fool as usual. She’d been talking about herself flying, and there had never been any real question that she would. She was flying without him. That had always been inevitable. She’d always been as far from his reach as a star, and he’d been too stupid to know it, but if she fell—he couldn’t let her get hurt.

He had one last glimpse of Theoda’s outraged face, before all the angels collapsed to ash. Sabrina’s burning-white gaze seemed to scour the tunnel.

“'Brina,” Harvey whispered, with love and fear, and when she staggered in the very air, he caught her up in his arms. 

He held her cradled there and she looked up at him, her eyes strange pearls, reaching up to touch his cheek with bloodstained fingertips. There was a crown of dark thorns in her hair. Oh God, all he’d wanted was to love this girl sweet as summertime, who listened to the sound of tree leaves as though they were music, and now they were down in the dark like this.

“Harvey,” Sabrina whispered, and her eyes shut.

Black terror slammed into Harvey’s heart, but at that second the rocks blocking their way parted as though they were water. Ambrose Spellman stood in the cleared mouth of the tunnel with a spell book cradled in his arms, and beside him was Roz.

She was staring right at Harvey, her eyes very wide. It took an instant, sunlight and joy both a shock he had to get accustomed to, but he realized she was looking at him.

“Roz,” he whispered. “You can see?”

Theo had said, Sabrina healed Ambrose. She’d healed Roz, too. Roz wasn’t blind anymore. 

Harvey moved forward, and Roz started back, clutching at Ambrose’s arm. Ambrose had let his spellbook go lax in his hands, as his attention focused on his cousin. Harvey’s heart lurched in his chest, sick and uncertain, as he looked at Roz and then down at Sabrina’s still face.

“Hilda sent us,” Roz said, clearing her throat, and Harvey realized she was focused on doing good, that was all. “She said to bring everyone to the Spellman house. Come on!” 

The Spellman house was full to the brim, but Sabrina’s room was peaceful. Miz Spellman had tucked Sabrina up under a blanket. 

Nick was helping Prudence with the others, but he’d come soon, and then Harvey would stop standing vigil. This was Nick’s place, now. It was just Harvey couldn’t go and leave her on her own. 

Hilda had cleaned Sabrina’s small face, but there was still blood in her hair, spread out bright as snow against her dark purple pillows. 

She’d kissed him while she had this snow-white hair, once to say goodbye and once when he dreamed he could keep her. Then the dream was over, and he knew he would never kiss her again. She was for high magic and for someone better. Nick deserved her.

Harvey didn’t deserve Roz, but Roz would let him try. 

Everything would be okay, if Sabrina would just wake up. Harvey stood, looking down at her in her little brass bed, and tried to pray, and thought of angels, and could not.

Despite his lack of faith, her eyes opened, and they were brown again, and summer sweet.

“Hi, ’Brina,” Harvey whispered to her in a tiny voice, as though he didn’t want to wake her. 

She smiled and whispered back, equally soft, “Hi, Harvey.”

They used to whisper to each other, just like this, at naptime when they would hold hands on mats put side by side.

“You saved everybody,” said Harvey. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I had help,” said Sabrina. “You, and Theo and Roz and Ambrose and Aunt Hilda. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“And Nick,” said Harvey.

Her glowing-pearl face went clouded. She didn’t like complications, Sabrina. She saw them as obstacles, and she had such shining purpose.

“In between making out with angels,” she said, her mouth going thin.

“I shouldn’t have told you that way,” said Harvey. “And I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did, before—before the angels. It was so shitty, ’Brina. I just felt so bad for Roz, and blaming magic was easy, but I saw the angels doing it and now I’ll never do it again. The angels were hurting them, ’Brina. They were prisoners. Nick didn’t have a lot of choice.”

Nick had walked back, into the room with the angel. But Harvey had already got Nick into trouble and he wasn’t doing it again.

“It’s okay, Harvey,” said Sabrina. “I know you were just worried about Roz. But Nick, he was mean to me before the angels came, he talked about me being half mortal—”

“You’re unique,” said Harvey. “In all the world. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve it, but sometimes all of us have trouble understanding who you are.”

“Sometimes I have trouble understanding who I am.”

Sabrina sat up, against the pillows, and Harvey took her hand where it lay on the hawthorn-patterned coverlet. 

“You’re special. That’s not your fault.”

“Nick told me I was special, too,” Sabrina whispered.

“He’s right. He’s a smart guy, Nick. And he’s trying to learn, the way you want to be loved. From all I can tell about witches, they’re not… taught to be good at that. It’s all… um, kinda new to me.”

“Aunt Zelda used to see some sex demons for stress relief,” Sabrina confided.

Sex demons. Zelda Spellman. Oh no, Harvey was putting that with the rest of the stuff he couldn’t deal with. 

“I get if it’s too much. But if you love him, it won’t be. And from the way you look at him, Sabrina…” Harvey said. “I kind of think you do.”

The way she’d looked at Nick, in her red dress, twirling, getting dipped. Like the hero and heroine of a romantic movie. They had such chemistry, people would say. 

He patted Sabrina’s hand, then let it go. Harvey wanted her to be happy. He wanted Nick to be happy. And he was happy, with Roz. He would do his best, to make Roz happy. Then everyone could be happy. 

“I do like Nick.” Sabrina scrunched her nose, in the way he’d always found adorable. “Maybe I even love him. It’s just, I always thought of romance in the mortal way, and—I had a dream once where I went flying out of his hands and into the sky and I froze there, with nobody to hold me.”

“I would never let that happen,” said Harvey, chilled. “I mean—none of us would. There are so many people who love you, ’Brina. We wouldn’t let you go, and we won’t let you be cold or alone. Nick wouldn’t, either.“

He hadn’t let her down when she asked him to guard Harvey. He’d helped her, and he’d helped Harvey too, and he’d kept helping. On the bridge, in the dungeons. In both sets of memories, Nick Scratch came through.

“You think so?” He could see how badly Sabrina wanted to believe.

“I know so,” said Harvey. 

“I don’t want intimacy to mean nothing, and I want us to trust each other, and I know he’s trying but sometimes I can’t help thinking of how much he flirts, it’s women and men and demons—” 

Oh no, demons again. Harvey made a distraught hand gesture and Sabrina made a ‘yeesh’ face as she continued. 

“--and everything Prudence--people say about him and how good he is at—at certain stuff. It feels dangerous, and I like that too, but… there’s so much danger everywhere. I’m glad I could help Ambrose and Roz, I’m glad I destroyed those angels. Maybe I was meant to fix everything that’s gone wrong. Maybe that’s why I have this power. I feel… I feel so strange sometimes. Sometimes I wish—I could be sure of someone.”

_I’m sure of you_ , she’d told him, three months ago, a lifetime ago. Before she went to the Academy and met Nick Scratch. She hadn’t been sure, since she saw Nick. And that had to be all right.

Nick was good at certain stuff, apparently. That made sense. 

“You’re just starting to be sure,” Harvey told her, gently. “You haven’t known each other that long. You’ll be sure soon.” 

Sabrina smiled painfully. “Like you are of Roz?”

“Yeah,” Harvey said. “I’m sure of Roz.”

He’d known her all their lives. He knew she was good, and loving, and loyal. He’d thought, when she began to look his way—that this was his only chance. Roz was the only other girl he could love, and Sabrina was already gone.

Of course, Roz had only been looking at him like that because she’d had a vision about him, but that was fine. The vision had given him a chance, to be with her. She’d given him a chance. He couldn’t blow it.

“I’ll talk to Nick. And… I’m really… happy for you and Roz,” said Sabrina. “I’m glad you’re happy together, and I believe in you both so much. I’m so sorry you ever suffered because of me.”

“I’m… happy for you and Nick,” said Harvey. “He’s—the kind of person you deserve to be with. I believe that. You’re both—so cool and smart. Don’t listen to Prudence. You two make sense together. You can believe me.”

“I do, Harvey,” she said, and her smile stopped being strained, turned marvelous. “I will.”

He nodded, task accomplished. He couldn’t stay here in her bedroom while she was awake, so he nodded awkwardly and made for the door.

Sabrina ran after him, padding to his side in bare feet and her white cotton pjs. She caught him at the door, and pressed a kiss on his cheek. He stood there, not sure how to deal with the feeling of her doing that, not sure if he should feel anything at all.

“Thank you,” Sabrina murmured. “You’re always there to catch me.”

There was a violent movement of shadow in the corner of Harvey’s eye, so Harvey didn’t have to think about Sabrina. Nick was always turning up in inappropriate places. Harvey remembered that now. 

“Why are you lurking,” said Harvey, manhandling him toward Sabrina’s door, “—why are you always lurking, it is so creepy.” 

“So I can find out what’s going on, after you pulled the move on my girl,” Nick complained.

He’d carried Prudence once before, in the lost winter days. Nick had called it the move then too. If people needed to be carried, Harvey thought, he could do that for them. He could catch someone falling, even if he couldn’t be with someone flying.

“Nick, for the last time,” said Harvey, “it’s not a move.”

Nick looked ready to fight, but Sabrina was smiling at him. Nick drew closer as though her smile was a beacon, though he also seemed perplexed by the smiling turn of events. He cast Harvey a suspicious glance, and Harvey sent him a reproving look back. _Settle down, Scratch. I told you I would fix it._

“How are you doing, Spellman?” Nick asked, touching her face like a boy who’d learned tenderness out of books and was testing it out for the first time.

“I’m all right,” said Sabrina, who seemed to oddly enjoy being called by her last name. “I need to shower the blood out of my hair, and then we need to talk.”

She softened the words by laying her hand on Nick’s face, too. Nick looked tempted to nuzzle into her palm, but refrained.

He was doing well, Harvey thought, looking at them with the old pain but being glad too, that they were comforting each other, that Nick was doing so well. Pain and affection were a weird hot tangle in his chest. From the very start, Nick doing something kind for Sabrina, he’d known Nick liked Sabrina and that he wanted to do right by her. It was only the way he’d bitten off Harvey’s head at every opportunity that had made Harvey think Nick was a jerk, and he now understood it was his own fault.

Mostly his own fault. Nick was fairly snarky on his own. It was odd, being fond of someone who you also found annoying, but Harvey supposed he’d get used to it. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Harvey. “Things were kind of looking… very eldritch with you back there, ’Brina. I think we need to consult Jean Grey’s arc in the X-Men, mostly as a manual in what not to do…”

Nick gave him a worried look. “Has he hit his head?”

“He’s talking about comics,” said Sabrina. “Which I am also somewhat stunned by.”

“Graphic novels!” corrected Harvey.

“They’re books where the story is mostly told in pictures,” explained Sabrina while Nick still looked blank, and Nick’s expression went horrified.

“If you can’t read, I will teach you.” 

“Ha ha,” said Harvey.

“No, I mean it,” said Nick. “It should be perfectly clear that what we need to consult is the Bible, but if he can’t even read it—”

“He can read!” protested Sabrina. 

“I can,” said Harvey. “You guys talk. I’m going to find Roz.”

“Right!” Sabrina said. “Right, yes, of course. You should! You go! Give her my love.” 

“I will,” said Harvey, and went downstairs. 

Hilda was in the kitchen with a dozen witches clamouring to be fed. And Ambrose and Roz were in the Spellmans’ parlor, in front of the fire, talking in soft voices. 

“—you sure?” asked Ambrose, then they both turned to see Harvey standing in the door. “I’ll leave you two alone,” he decided. 

Ambrose patted Harvey on the shoulder as he went. That was oddly nice of Ambrose, Harvey thought. Maybe he was pleased with Harvey, for helping out. Ambrose was so great. 

Roz stood, her pretty hair swaying as she moved. Firelight caught glints in her curls. He smiled at the very sight of her.

There she was, one of the three best people in the universe, golden as a cloud with the sun behind it. And she could see. 

“Hey, Roz,” said Harvey, glowing with happiness and love. “Sabrina’s well. Everyone’s safe. You can see. I’m—I’m so—”

He came toward her, hands outstretched so he could cup her face and see her look up at him. Roz jerked back and Harvey came to a stuttering uncertain stop, his cupped hands empty.

“Roz?” he asked, tentatively. “Rosalind?”

“Don’t call me that,” Roz said in a tiny voice. “This is hard enough.”

She sounded sad, so he automatically reached out a hand for hers. She looked at his hand as though it was a snake. He knew then there was something terribly wrong. He should have known before. He was being dumb again. Ambrose had touched Harvey in sympathy, not approval. 

“If this is about Nick Scratch—” began Harvey, uncertainly.

Roz blinked. “Why would anything be about Sabrina’s boyfriend?”

“Uh,” said Harvey. “Well, never mind. I mean, it doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you later.”

He didn’t want to talk about it later, or ever think about it again, but Roz should be aware. 

“He’s very hot, but I barely know him,” said Roz, and her mouth twisted a little. “I promise I’m not interested in stealing another of Sabrina’s guys.”

“Roz,” said Harvey, shocked. “You didn’t—I wasn’t—You asked Sabrina if it was okay! She said it was.”

Sabrina hadn’t wanted him. Roz had done him a favor, by stooping to pick him up when he’d been cast aside. But it looked like she’d realized what she’d picked up wasn’t worth much.

“Sure,” said Roz. “I asked, so that she’d say yes and I could feel okay about it. But… it wasn’t fair of me. And, Harvey… it wasn’t a good idea.” 

“I think it was,” said Harvey, and tried to stop his voice from trembling. “Is this about—seeing me carry Sabrina? She was hurt, that was all it was, I’d carry anyone—”

He’d carried Prudence once when she was hurt, he remembered again, amongst his bewildered tumbling new memories. He definitely wasn’t romantically interested in Prudence, since he liked his liver where it was. He edged toward Roz. For months now, she’d blushed and looked pleased when he touched her, but now she looked almost sick. If only he could put his arm around her, dip his head down to the sweet-smelling curve of her shoulder and smell the oils she used in her hair, a comforting safe scent. If only he knew what was wrong, he could fix it. 

“Whatever it is—”

“Harvey, I’m devout!” Roz snarled.

“What?”

It was something he knew about her, but it was so strange in this context, he couldn’t process it.

“The sons of God shall not transgress with the daughters of men,” said Roz, desperately. “It’s in—it’s in the Bible—”

“Why is everyone talking to me about the Bible!” snapped Harvey. “Roz. Rosalind, I’m not an angel.”

“I saw you,” Roz murmured. “Your eyes were full of gold light. There was gold light moving around you in the shape of transparent wings.”

The tunnel, turning to gold around him. The weight of light on his back. The white chaos in Sabrina’s eyes and the darkness around her. For a moment, Harvey had feared what this would mean for Sabrina. If Roz was feeling a shadow of the same fear for Harvey, he could understand that. 

“That’s just magic weirdness!” said Harvey. “That doesn’t matter. You and I matter. I won't use any of that awful power ever again, I swear, Roz. I'll give it up. For you.”

Only Roz was shaking her head. Her face said nothing was fixed at all. 

“How could I ever touch you again? It would be sacrilege.” 

“You don’t have to touch me,” Harvey said desperately. “I don’t care. Just please don’t leave me, Roz. It can be any way you want. Roz, you know me. I’m nobody special. I’m… I’m just Harvey. But you liked me, a little bit. Please still like me.” 

“I did like you,” said Roz. “A lot. And I thought I knew you. I thought I knew Sabrina, we all did, and when she said she was a witch and she went off to the Academy I felt like... we'd both been abandoned. I thought—I had a vision of you with me, and I had such a crush on you, I wanted to believe it was okay.”

“You did?” Harvey asked, with amazement and rising hope. “Thank you. I have a crush on you back!”

“You didn’t,” said Roz. “You always loved Sabrina. And I wanted that, how you were with her. But being with you isn’t going to give me that.” 

“I did love her,” said Harvey desperately. “But she never loved me, not really. She has Nick now, and she must have known as soon as she met him that she didn’t feel that way about me, and--and that’s all right because… because I have you. You’re the only thing in my life that’s still all right. I’ll give you anything you ask. I’m in love with you. It’s okay that you don’t love me back yet, if you’ll just stay.”

“Blasphemy and being in love with my best friend…” said Roz. “It’s too much.”

Terror went through Harvey, worse than with any of the angels.

“I’m _not_! Roz, please, I love you, it’s you. Roz, tell me what I have to say to make you not leave me all alone!”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that last part. It rang strangely, an echo that seemed to drown out all the words before. 

And then there were tears in her beautiful amber eyes, which he’d been so happy to see so clear and bright.

“Harvey, I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

“No…” Harvey said. “Roz, don’t cry. It’s--”

He couldn’t say it was okay. 

“I’m not worth that,” he said at last, and turned away, so she wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

“You’re worth a lot to me,” Roz told him, softly. “If I’d let myself fall in love with you—and I almost did—” and God, why would she say that, why let him know it had even been a possibility—“then I might have hated you, once I realized some of this. I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want for you to hate me.”

“No,” whispered Harvey. “I love you.”

Her, and Sabrina, and Theo. The three best people in the world, put in his school for him to find. He’d always been so grateful for that. Time to pay for it, as he’d paid for having the best brother in the world.

It didn’t matter that he was left with empty hands.

“Do whatever you have to do, I guess,” Harvey continued, very quietly. “So you won’t hate me.” 

He was alone, then. If he hadn't talked Sabrina around, back to Nick--no. No, he couldn't think that way.

He heard Roz move, and thought perhaps she would touch him then, that they could hug even if there wouldn’t be one last kiss, but she didn’t. Because it would be sacrilege to touch him. He heard her open the door, and close it softly behind him. He sat down on the Spellmans’ chintz armchair, and put his face in his hands, and tried to not to sob. He sat there for a long time.

When the door slid open again, he scrubbed fiercely at his face with his bloodstained sweater sleeves, and stared at the tiny figure in the doorway. 

“Witch-hunter, why are you crying?” Demonia asked in her small sweet voice.

“Oh, uh,” said Harvey. “Sometimes mortals do.”

“Because that girl doesn’t want to be your girlfriend anymore?” Demonia explained, “I was listening at the door. Well, we all were.”

All the witches? All of them.

“Great,” Harvey muttered.

Demonia sidled over to him. “You can do the thing to me again you did before. With your arms.”

Harvey was puzzled for a moment, then got it. He gave her a big hug. Demonia’s hands knotted in his sweater.

“Don’t be… hurt feeling,” whispered Demonia. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Thanks but no,” said Harvey, sniffling and feeling ever so slightly consoled. “That would be illegal. The hug was all I needed. Listen, I’m gonna go home. Miz Spellman will take care of you.”

“I will go to your home with you,” proposed Demonia.

“You can’t, sweetheart,” said Harvey. “My dad isn’t… he’s not safe.”

Demonia met his eyes with a mischievous twinkle in hers. “Shall we kill him?”

“Also illegal!” 

Now he recalled New Year’s, Nick had suggested killing his father too. He didn’t know why even well-meaning witches had to always go on about killing his dad all the time. 

Demonia wilted with disappointment. Harvey sent her on her way. A misty plan was forming in his aching head. He’d walk home and think about collecting his truck from the Academy sometime later, after a long sleep in his own bed. 

But then the door opened and a whirlwind in a black minidress came in and slammed the door behind her.

“Called it!” Elspeth yelled at the door.

“Huh?” asked Harvey.

“I would like to begin by saying that I had nothing whatsoever to do with your brother’s death!” she declared.

“Um,” said Harvey. “Good.”

“In fact, I’m sorry it happened! Was he beautiful like you?”

Harvey blinked. “Tommy was much better-looking than me.”

“I’m personally devastated by his passing,” announced Elspeth.

Harvey couldn’t deal with witches right now. 

“Thanks for your sympathy,” he said, feeling his mouth go all prim. “I have to get going—”

“So I hear you’re no longer being monogamous with the daughter of a false god’s minister!”

“Did you hear it through listening at a door?” 

Harvey’s tone was disapproving, but Elspeth just beamed at him.

“Yes! Because she doesn’t want to despoil you, since it would be blasphemy. In fact if I’m picking up on this correctly, nobody’s ever despoiled you. That is a waste and it is dangerous. You could be sacrificed at any moment!” 

Harvey sighed. “Thanks for the PSA. I’ll take my chances.”

He made for the door, but she blocked his path, putting both hands against his chest. “Guess what witches adore,” Elspeth murmured, eyes bright. “Blasphemy.”

Harvey was mostly not listening, focused on getting away. “Good for you, I guess—”

“We witches owe you, and I will pay you back by making you safe from sacrifice!”

Nobody owed him, just for trying to do the right thing. “There’s no need to repay me.”

“I’ll be monogamous!” proposed Elspeth. “For several days!”

Harvey shook his head. “What…”

“Very well, a week!” 

“I don’t…”

“Look,” said Elspeth, “If you’re holding out for Sabrina and Nick Scratch, believe me, I understand.”

Harvey blinked. “Huh?” 

He wished he understood, because they’d just jumped from one place of wild chaos to the next.

Elspeth’s eyes were fixed on a point beyond Harvey’s shoulder, dreamy. “Nick is a darkly seductive bag of night vixens, and Sabrina must have something, to have Nick go demented monogamous for her.”

“She’s one of the greatest women in the world,” snapped Harvey, then remembered Nick was his friend now. “And Nick is… also good. Great. A great person. They’re a great couple.”

“Well, you can’t have them,” said Elspeth. “I know Nick was all for the idea at first, but you have to understand, you can lose privileges by being ungrateful.”

“He was what…” said Harvey. “How are these privileges…”

Harvey would feel privileged if witches would stop talking to him about weird sex stuff, but witches insisted on continually talking to him about weird sex stuff!

Elspeth blinked at him innocently. “Oh, it’s all very standard for witches. Especially high calibre warlocks, there aren’t enough of them to go around. And Nick’s the best we’ve got. Even Prudence was willing to share Ambrose Spellman with Luke, though fortunately Luke got murdered by the witch-hunters so she won’t have to.”

Actually, Harvey remembered that too. At the movies, they'd seen Ambrose out on a date with Luke, and Nick had said that Prudence would put up with Luke... if she had to. And Harvey had felt a chill at the thought it might be the worst thing in the world, to be in a witch's way.

“I admit you’re going to be a hot commodity among the witches, what with being a celestial sex toy,” Elspeth proceeded, and Harvey almost passed out. “I can see how you would think it was reasonable Nick might want you to toss him a bang every now and then, while he counts the days until Sabrina gives it up. And then I guess hopes you get murdered. Which you might be! There’s so much murder going around right now.” 

How was any of this reasonable?

Clearly, Elspeth knew nothing about Nick and Sabrina’s personal business, which was as it should be. Nothing else about witches was as it should be. Harvey had many questions and was too terrified of answers to ask any of them.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out for you. Nick’s the one who has dibs on Sabrina now, and you annoy him. He’s always biting your head off, and he’s usually the coolest customer around. It’s pretty clear that witch has sailed right off a cliff without a broomstick.”

“Everything you’re saying is… too much,” said Harvey. “I really don’t have any intention of… anything. I’ll be alone forever, I think. Yeah. Sounds good. Gotta go.”

He tried to make his way toward the door, but she blocked him.

“There’s no need for despair! Elspeth’s here. And I’m so grateful to you for all your witch-hunter heroics.”

Elspeth reached out to him with both hands, as if she wanted a hug. Uncertainly, Harvey reached back.

“Thanks, but I didn’t do anything… oh my God.”

Elspeth was unbuttoning her dress while moving in for her hug. “You can continue with the blasphemy. It makes me go wil—”

“Hands off the mortal,” drawled Nick from the door.

Harvey had never been so happy to see anyone in his life. He dodged around Elspeth and went to stand behind Nick, so Nick could protect him from the shirtless hug. Nick glanced at him and did the mocking single eyebrow, but he shifted his shoulder slightly in front of Harvey.

Elspeth’s bright birdlike eyes darted from Harvey to Nick and back again. “If I’ve picked this up wrong, I’m also happy to go for any kind of carnal combination you favor!”

Nick sounded so amused, the jerkface. “I’m sure.”

“Our night together was unforgettable,” Elspeth told Nick.

“I’m glad you thought so,” said Nick, politely. “You’re scaring my mortal. Best you find somewhere else to be.” 

“Hey!” said Harvey. “I’m not scared.”

As Elspeth went sadly out the door, she gave him terrifying eyes. A lot of lace was still on display. Harvey grabbed hold of the back of Nick’s shirt so he could keep Nick between them. He wasn’t scared, but he was freaked out and miserable and tired. 

Nick still sounded amused. “How’s it going, Harry?”

“Nick,” said Harvey, too exhausted to care he was being pathetic, “Will you teleport me home? I just—I just wanna go home.”

“Yeah, farm boy,” said Nick, a good friend for whom Harvey was extremely grateful. He accomplished this easy and immediate rescue by taking hold of Harvey’s wrist. 

The world spun for a brief instant, like mixed watercolors, and then Harvey was in front of the low green farmhouse where he’d been born. Harvey wanted to flee inside and hide there, but he had to keep trying to be nice to Nick and make it up to him.

“Thanks,” he told Nick. “I think Elspeth was hitting on me!”

Nick did an unspeakable thing with his eyebrows. “Yes,” he said with studied and offensive coolness, “I think you’re right.”

Okay, Harvey knew Elspeth had been hitting on him. Showing him her whole bra had been a clear signal. He just wasn’t in any frame of mind to deal with any of this. Roz didn’t love him, and witches had only cold and terrifying ideas about sex and murder.

He sighed. “Anyway. Thanks again. Night.”

“Wait,” said Nick.

Harvey waited. When nothing more was forthcoming, he offered, “See you tomorrow?”

“I have something to say to you,” Nick told him. “Can I come in out of the cold?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Talk. Hookers with Hearts of Gold. True Love, Somewhat Untraditional.

CHAPTER 10

Harvey didn’t know how he was supposed to despair about being alone when the witches wouldn’t leave him alone. 

But Nick had rescued him from Elspeth’s bra, and Harvey had been unkind to Nick and maybe even--despite what Nick claimed--hurt Nick’s feelings a tiny bit. It might be a good sign, that Nick wanted to hang out, a sign that he wanted to be friends again. Harvey would like that.

Only Harvey was so tired, and he sort of wanted to cry again, and he couldn’t possibly collapse and weep in front of Nick Scratch. 

“Don’t you need to be getting back to Sabrina?” he offered, with little hope. There was no sense having much hope when it came to the witches.

“I was with her,” Nick said. “She said her aunt would check on her, so I should go and she should sleep.”

“I guess she was shot by an arrow…” muttered Harvey unhappily. 

He hated to think about Sabrina being hurt. It was also deeply alarming to think about Sabrina being eldritch. 

He stood on his porch at a loss, his shoulders slumping. The wind rattled through the still mostly bare branches, and Harvey felt that empty sound as though it was happening in his own chest. Then he saw Nick’s face, which seldom showed much, closing all the way back up. He remembered he wasn’t the only one who could be hurt.

“If you want me to go,” Nick said, his voice freezing over with alarming swiftness.

“No!” Harvey said. “No, no, I didn’t mean that. Yeah, you can come in out of the cold.”

Nick sounded tentative, as if having insisted on getting his own way, he was nevertheless surprised to be getting his own way. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Harvey said firmly. “Only… wait a minute? My dad might be inside. Let me go check that the coast is clear.” 

Then he and Nick could talk about—whatever. At least it wouldn't be as disturbing as his last two conversations with witches. Nick was in a loving and committed relationship, and for various excellent reasons wouldn’t offer to be Harvey’s girlfriend. 

“All right,” said Nick, so Harvey went inside and left the witch on the porch.

His dad was inside, in the living room. His dad had his feet up on the table, and a woman in fishnets on his lap. 

She saw Harvey, standing shocked beside one of the support beams, before his father did.

“Let me guess, your cute young roommate?” asked the woman, with a flutter of sooty lashes.

“His underage son,” said Harvey, in a stony voice.

His dad swore, shoving the woman off, and she had to scramble gracelessly to not get dumped on her ass on the floor. She tottered and almost fell in her skyscraper heels, and Harvey rushed to catch her, hand beneath her elbow and steadying her. 

“Oh no.” The woman blinked several times. “I’m real sorry. You look older than—”

“Sixteen,” said Harvey. “I’m just tall.”

His voice sounded apologetic, which was dumb. This whole situation was so lousy, and he was very tired, but she looked tired too under her make-up.

“Is that blood on your sweater, kid?” she asked him quietly.

“Marcia, I’m not paying you to chat with Harv,” snapped his dad. He didn’t say ‘Harv’ like Theo did, fond: he said it as though he wasn’t bothered saying the rest of Harvey’s name. 

His dad was trying to be nicer to him these days, but he wasn’t going to be nice today. His dad looked embarrassed, and that always made him bad-tempered. Harvey had spent his whole life telling himself not to take his feelings out on other people, after watching his father do it all the time.

His father scratched the back of his neck. “You haven’t been home in days. Thought it was safe enough. Thought you were at your new girl’s house, under the reverend’s eye.”

“She dumped me,” said Harvey. 

He might as well get that out of the way. It wasn’t like his dad would be surprised, any more than his dad had been surprised when Sabrina left him. 

“Right,” said his dad. “Like the last one, eh? Stan saw the Spellman girl with her new private-school boy down in that creepy old bookstore. Said he looked rich. Had swagger.”

That was Nick, all right. Harvey thought of what Nick would say, if someone looked down on him.

“Wasn’t aware Stan could read,” said Harvey. 

His dad raised his eyebrows. “Don’t take that snotty tone with me,” he said, but mildly enough. “Roz find herself a likely young buck? Did he see you off, is that why you look knocked for six? Tell me you at least got a swing in there, Harv.”

The woman gave him a sympathetic look, which was nice of her. Harvey didn’t need sympathy. His dad wasn’t super mad. He was even being a little kind, for him, assuming Harvey might’ve got a swing in. 

His grandpa, who didn’t ever bother to come by now the worthwhile grandson was dead, would’ve assumed Harvey got his ass kicked.

Harvey thought of the dead angel on the dungeon floor, stared at his own floor, and gave a sullen shrug. 

“Well, we’re off,” said his dad. “Clock’s ticking, but we’ll go to a motel with my kid here, Marcia.”

“What a prince,” said Marcia, but she snuggled up to him when he put an arm around her. His dad wasn’t looking at her face, so he didn’t see her tired eyes. 

“It was nice to meet you,” said Harvey.

She didn’t look at him. “Sorry, kid.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry for,” said Harvey. “You did nothing wrong.”

He might have gone too far there, but his dad stayed nice enough. He didn’t yell at Harvey, just narrowed his eyes and then slammed the front door hard enough so that he knew Harvey would flinch. 

Harvey did flinch, and the flinch ran through his chilled weary bones like a shudder. Then he remembered Nick and ran to the porch, but there was nobody there. Just his dad’s truck, rattling away down the road with its lights disappearing into the enveloping shadows of Greendale, and the night wind moving through the treeline. 

When Harvey turned back around, closing the door behind him, an eddy of wind rushed in and blurred his vision. He wasn’t particularly surprised when he saw Nick, leaning back casually in one of his kitchen chairs.

He was surprised when he saw Nick’s hair. Apparently Nick had become bored left on the porch, and done his hair in some awful way that clearly involved unwarranted amounts of hair gel and no curls anymore at all.

It would be rude to comment on someone’s terrible hair, so Harvey didn’t do that.

“Hey, Nick. Sorry that took so long. My dad had a hooker in here,” Harvey said, still furious and wanting to tell someone.

Nick blinked. “What’s a hooker?”

“Oh,” said Harvey. “I guess it’s a mortal thing? Um, they’re, um, people. Who we should respect. They have… sex with other people for, uh, for money. Which is legitimate work though it should be, uh, better regulated.”

Roz and Sabrina’s discussions on this subject had been vehement but embarrassing. 

“Sex?” Nick asked. “For _money_?”

He sounded as if he’d never imagined such a thing.

“Yeah, it’s, I know as a concept, it’s a little—”

“I need a minute,” said Nick. “I’m trying to cope with the realization that I could be a millionaire. Wow. I’ve been giving it away for free all over town.”

Harvey also took a minute, to absorb Nick’s instant leap to ‘hooker with a heart of gold’ aspirations.

“I guess Dorian sometimes offers his dungeons full of sex demons to people as favors,” Nick mused.

“Right,” said Harvey. “Your bartender friend.”

Nick nodded, cautiously.

Nick had mentioned Dorian’s before, in the lost days. Sounded like a weird bar. Nick had said he went to Dorian’s to drink when he was upset, and Harvey had been reminded of his dad, and… oh no… Harvey had offered that Nick could come over to Harvey’s instead, if he wanted. And then Nick _had_. And Harvey hadn’t remembered. 

What Harvey had done seemed worse and worse, the more he thought about it. 

Nick had come, so he must have thought they were friends, a little. And except for Prudence and this bartender guy, it didn’t seem as though Nick had many actual friends. 

Harvey made a helpless gesture to his sweater. “This has blood on it, so I’m going to—”

“Feel free to take it off,” said Nick.

Okay, witches, thought Harvey, and went to his room. He was still worrying about what he’d done to Nick.

This was like when he’d turned down Sabrina’s magic pencils, but much worse. Pencils weren’t a person. And Harvey had done it because he was afraid, of magic and of trusting people, and it had all been useless because it wasn’t like Harvey could cut Sabrina out of his life any more than he could cut his own heart out of his chest and expect to keep on living.

Harvey was so sorry. He had to do something to make up for his awful mistake. Usually he tried to be supportive of his friends, but what could he be supportive of here? Nick probably didn’t want to start a women’s reading club or join the basketball team. What did Nick like? Sabrina, but she wasn’t here right now. Books, but the library was shut because it was midnight. Lasagna, Harvey seemed to recall, but that would be weird, due again to it being midnight.

He put on a flannel shirt and looked at the sweater. It was all dirty, and he didn’t think the stain of angel blood was coming out. The stain on Tommy’s wall when he shot his brother hadn’t come out. Harvey had scrubbed and scrubbed at it. He’d painted the wall, but he knew the stain was still there really.

He put his brother’s old sweater in the trash, sat there for a minute with his hand over his eyes, and whispered: “Sorry, Tommy.” 

Then he got up and went back to the kitchen, where he had to make it up to Nick.

“Really, that shirt?” said Nick when he came in. “Is ‘doesn’t have blood on it’ your only criteria?”

“Yep, I know that must be weird for witches, you probably think blood is a fashion accessory,” said Harvey. “Do you put blood in your hair gel? Your hair looks terrible, and I hate it.”

Operation ‘make things up to Nick’ wasn’t going well. Harvey was too tired for this.

Nick didn’t seem snappish in the hurt way, though, only the regular Nick way. “I won’t be relying on you for fashion tips. Prudence said I should try to keep my hair under control.”

“She must have been playing a mean practical joke,” said Harvey.

“Well,” said Nick. “I suppose that’s possible.”

“Do you want coffee?” Harvey asked helplessly, now he’d insulted a guest in his home.

Nick leaned back in his chair. “All right.”

It was a relief to have something to do with his hands. Harvey was tired enough so all his movements had to be slow and deliberate, putting the kettle on the stove, finding the coffee jar.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Sabrina and I haven’t slept together,” Nick announced. “It’s been three weeks, and I think I know why.”

It was good that Harvey was moving slowly, because otherwise he would’ve poured boiling water directly onto his hands. Harvey stared at his hands, and then at the steaming mouth of the kettle, like it was the gateway to hell. 

Actually, this was fine. This was good. Nick wanted to have a bro talk, about his relationship problems. Obviously it was all gonna be phrased horribly, because… witches. But it was good Nick felt he could come to Harvey with this, so Harvey could support Nick and Sabrina as they negotiated a, like, somewhat cross-cultural relationship. 

“Because three weeks isn’t that long?” Harvey suggested.

He’d been dating Roz the same amount of time, and he certainly hadn’t expected her to sleep with him. If she’d wanted to—but she hadn’t. She didn’t want him at all. 

When he glanced over his shoulder, Nick was shaking his head. “Everybody celebrates Lupercalia carnally, but Amalia came and Sabrina had to stop her, so the timing wasn’t right.” 

What was Lupercalia? No, it sounded as though someone had tried to hurt Sabrina, that was more important.

“Who’s Amalia?” asked Harvey.

Nick bit his lip. “She’s—my familiar. She was. She was a werewolf. She raised me. Sabrina had to kill her.”

Another memory, unwelcome because it was so awful, intruded. In the last days Harvey had asked Nick if he’d been raised by wolves, as a joke. And Nick had asked how he knew.

If Sabrina had to kill someone, she’d had a reason. But if Amalia had raised Nick, she’d been his family. Harvey remembered how it felt to face the prospect of having Sabrina kill your family. And it had actually happened to Nick.

Harvey brought Nick his coffee, laid it down on the table and knelt beside Nick’s chair.

“I’m so sorry,” Harvey said, soft. 

Nick looked down into his face for a minute, then looked away. 

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Nick decided. “On another night with Sabrina, I laid myself out on her bed and made it clear I was hers for the taking, and I thought she might, but Ambrose was framed for murder.”

“Excuse me, framed for what?”

“I can understand all that,” said Nick, while Harvey was still trying to understand the ‘framed for murder’ thing, “but tonight, she forgave me for the angel and I told her I wanted to be the one to catch her—”

“Nick, that’s not what she meant—”

“She was only wearing a bathrobe,” Nick continued, his voice going smoky and thoughtful. “We were kissing on her bed, and I could feel her skin was still warm and wet from the bath, and I knew she was—” 

Harvey made a faint protesting noise at this oversharing, which was ignored.

“Everyone was busy and the lights were low, and she was melting against me—but she still pulled away, and gave me another kiss, and said I should go before her aunt came to check on her. She’s always having a good time, but she’s always holding part of herself back, and I know why.” 

Harvey didn’t think Nick knew why. Apparently, witches had sex practically before they were introduced, so now Nick had got some fool idea into his head about how Sabrina didn’t like him. Which was endearing, Nick Scratch actually uncertain, but now it was tragically Harvey’s job to reassure him. 

“The first time…” Harvey began, and tried to put words such as ‘meaningful’ and ‘trust’ and ‘patience!’ together in his mind, in an order that would make sense.

“The first time,” said Nick. “Sabrina wants it to be you.”

“What!” Harvey yelped, then started to stammer, “No she… no she _doesn’t_ , Nick—where did you get that idea?”

Was this what having a heart attack felt like? Harvey couldn’t believe he had to talk about more weird witch sex stuff, and yet… How terrible Nick must feel, if he actually believed that.

“Her Aunt Zelda told me,” said Nick, causing yet another firework of horror to go off in Harvey’s brain. “She and Sabrina were talking about Lupercalia, and Sabrina said she always thought her first time would be with you, so Zelda told me to use all my lithe yet supple body language, put my muscular back into it, and show Sabrina an infernally magnificent time. Her words.”

“My God,” said Harvey, quietly.

He was learning so much about Sabrina’s Aunt Zelda and he didn’t want to know any of it. He’d been comfortable with her as a terrifying authority figure who looked down her cigarette holder at him. 

“Sabrina wants me, but lust’s not enough for her, and that’s all witches are actually good at,” said Nick. “The other stuff…”

He just shook his head.

The fireworks of horror kept bursting into vivid color in Harvey’s mind. Where had Harvey’s life gone wrong, that people said ‘lust’ to him in his own kitchen? 

“What do you mean, other stuff?”

“You know, the mortal stuff.” Nick stared fixedly at the wall, past the curl of steam over his cup, and spoke the words as if they were in a strange tongue. “Ten…derness. Belonging… to each other.”

See, Nick did know the words. Harvey thought of all the things he'd heard from Nick, and Prudence, and tonight Elspeth, and even the tiredness of that woman Marcia's eyes with a transaction before her instead of actually wanting to be with someone. How awful it must be for witches, especially the ones smart enough to be aware of what they were missing. Feeling what you felt, and learning a warped lesson that you didn’t or couldn’t or shouldn’t, or whatever it was Satan had them doing. 

This was so strange, but ultimately Harvey was glad Nick was here. This was someone trying to love Sabrina, the best way he knew how. 

Nick reached out for his coffee cup, and his fingers fell short of grabbing it. So Harvey reached out for him, hand around Nick’s wrist, rubbing a comforting circle against the inside.

“You’ll work that out,” Harvey soothed him. “Nick. This will be all right.”

“Yes,” said Nick, his eyes on Harvey’s hand. “It _will_ be all right. I have a plan.” 

Having someone say that should be reassuring, but for some reason it really wasn’t. Maybe Harvey was starting to understand why Theo went pale whenever Sabrina said it. 

“I am, in spite of your continuous terrible decision-making and possible illiteracy…” said Nick, in a faraway voice, “… still down to share.”

“What? Still what?”

Like, it was nice that Nick wanted to share something, but he hadn’t said what. There was a voice at the very back of Harvey’s worn-out mind that was shrieking something, but Harvey couldn’t manage to make out what the shrieking might be.

“You don’t have to answer right away. Think about it. I know… I annoy you,” said Nick. “But I’m useful in a lot of ways. And I don’t have to be around that much.”

Harvey felt on firmer ground here. He was real sure on the topic of how Nick annoyed him. “You annoy me on purpose, ‘cause you think it’s funny.”

Nick’s quirk of the lips was the same shape as a can-you-blame-me shrug. 

Harvey shook his head ruefully. “But I like having you around. And you don’t have to be useful. What does that even mean? You’re not a food processor.”

“What’s a food processor?” Nick shook his head. “No, that’s not important. The important thing is—I want Sabrina to be happy.”

Harvey softened further. “Of course.”

“And she would be happy. Don’t you want Sabrina to be happy?” 

Naturally he did, but he was starting to get a bad feeling about this. 

“I don’t—I don’t understand what you’re trying to say…”

Nick took his gaze off Harvey’s hand at last, and looked into his face again. Nick was wearing an expression Harvey found difficult to interpret, but it wasn’t closed off. Perhaps that was the strange thing about the expression: it was struggling not to be closed off.

“Forget about that mortal girl,” said Nick, leaning in. “Have us instead.”

Dear God. Suddenly and terribly, Harvey understood. 

“Oh!” exclaimed Harvey. “Ohhhh, dear.” 

Harvey had read this situation wrong. Once again, it was inappropriately sexual times with witches o’clock. 

Gently, Harvey took hold of Nick’s shoulders and pushed him back a little. Then Harvey scrambled up and into the chair next to Nick’s. He had to be careful. 

Okay, the crucial point here was: Nick was trying to do something nice, for Sabrina. Like a guy trying to win a girl a cuddly toy at a fair. Sabrina didn’t even want the cuddly toy, and Harvey as the cuddly toy had strong objections, but Nick was trying to give her a token of his regard.

It was possible, also, in the same way Theo offered to make hot chocolate if they were watching scary movies together, that Nick thought a good comforting gesture would be to offer Harvey… sex with Nick’s girlfriend. Who was Sabrina. 

If Harvey wrote a song about his life, the chorus would go: Witches, why are they like this? 

“Riiiight,” said Harvey slowly. “I get it now. Um. I didn’t before.”

“I’ve been perfectly clear this whole time!” snapped Nick. “You dumped Sabrina for that mortal girl—”

“—I did not—"

“You did,” said Nick. “She and I were going to get coffee in what I planned to be our first date, and then you were getting coffee with that mortal girl, and Sabrina saw you and she looked upset.”

“Sorry,” said Harvey. “She and you were on a date, but I don’t get to be on a date? Which I wasn’t on!”

Roz had just been explaining to him, in her kind friend way, how Theo had never been Susie at all. Harvey had appreciated that very much.

“You touched her hand,” Nick said, accusing.

He’d just touched Nick’s hand, for God’s sake! Oh no, was that some kind of scandalous witch come-on? Harvey put his face in his hand, then pushed the hair in his eyes off his face, and tried to think.

“Now the mortal girl doesn’t want you anymore,” said Nick, and Harvey flinched, but Nick kept going. “But Sabrina still does. So I think she should get to have you. But I don’t want her to get rid of me and I don’t think it would be fair of you to tell her that she has to! Be reasonable for once, mortal.”

He didn’t see why he should be reasonable, when nobody else ever was! But… it sounded as though Nick believed there was a chance Sabrina might dump Nick for Harvey, which was ridiculous. Even his dad’s friends knew Sabrina had traded up, could tell at a glance that Harvey was outclassed and Sabrina finally had the kind of guy she deserved.

It was because Nick liked Sabrina so much, and because of how witches were about love, that Nick had got these ideas into his head.

“Nick,” said Harvey. “I know you’re smart, but I think you’re wrong about how Sabrina feels.” 

If Harvey didn’t think about the specifics of what Nick was suggesting, if he just put them in the ‘can’t deal with that’ box along with the altar stuff and the blood, then Nick was willing to make extreme concessions, because he felt he had to, so he could keep Sabrina. That was so sad.

“Let’s say I’m not wrong,” suggested Nick.

“Then that would be terrible for you!”

“I could… endure it,” said Nick slowly. 

Harvey recalled vividly, after Tommy, how lonely he’d felt. No wonder, with Amalia dead, Nick was clinging onto what he had with teeth and claws. Harvey remembered how it felt, to beg Roz not to leave him alone. He would’ve made any bargain. Nobody should feel that way, certainly not Nick.

Harvey tried again. “So, about the heterosexuals—”

“It’s been a terrible day and I don’t wish to talk about them, they upset me!”

“I am—”

“Do any gross thing you want,” said Nick. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

“I think Sabrina might be—”

“Please don’t insult my girlfriend!”

Harvey did not think Nick understood about the heterosexuals. None of the witches appeared to. They didn’t seem to wish to. The whole idea overset them. 

“I’m not trying to upset you,” said Harvey, honestly.

“Then why,” inquired Nick, “do you always have to be so difficult? When I asked Sabrina about sharing—”

“When did you do that!”

“I waited ages to ask her,” said Nick, obviously proud of what a gentleman he’d been, “it was the third time we met—”

“Oh Jesus.” 

Nick gave him a reproachful look for swearing. “I could tell she liked me, so her saying no was all your fault. Now you say that you don’t hate witches, and you claim you don’t hate me, so what is your problem? What do I have to do? Would you just _tell me_ , and I’ll do it.”

Nick’s eyes had gone bitter again, not closed up but furious. This was difficult for him, Harvey thought. Not the—idea of all the weird witch stuff, but Nick was proud, and the witches thought they were better than mortals. Elspeth would obviously have thought Nick was lowering himself here, laying all his pride in the dust for Sabrina’s sake. 

He was tired of hurting people, Harvey thought with immense and all-encompassing weariness. Harvey didn’t want to hurt Nick any more than he already had. Nick had apparently interpreted Sabrina not instantly leaping for him the third time they met as a hurtful and personal rejection, and he’d got himself twisted up, and now Nick was going to feel rejected again.

Except Nick didn’t have to be. The crucial thing Harvey had to do was get Nick to leave, and talk to Sabrina. She would correct his mistaken assumptions.

How to do that? 

“Sabrina wouldn’t go for it,” Harvey said simply. “You should go ask her, and she will explain why.”

Nick went still. It wasn’t a reassuring stillness, but a predatory stillness, like the moment before a leap.

“So if she says yes,” said Nick. “You’re in?”

“Uh…” said Harvey. 

It wasn’t lying, he told himself. It was like when Nick was drunk, and Harvey said he could come over whenever he wanted. It was fine to give permission for something that wasn’t happening. It was as though he was saying Nick could travel freely to the land of Oz. 

“Sure. Okay.”

Nick glowed at him. It almost made up for the hair. “Yes?”

“Yep, fine,” said Harvey, glazed with lunacy. “Great idea.”

“It is a great idea,” Nick assured him, in a distressingly caressing voice. “This will solve so many problems.”

“No doubt,” said Harvey, leaving silent the ‘you total maniac’ bit of his sentence. 

“You’re a good mortal,” Nick told him. 

This was the first time Nick had been pleased with him since… maybe ever. Tragically, his approval was based on a highly mistaken premise, but once Sabrina set Nick straight on certain facts, Nick would stop raging around feeling insecure. They could be friends after all. Harvey risked a tiny smile back.

That was a mistake. Nick leaned in again, his glow going somewhat smouldering, and touched the ends of Harvey’s hair.

Harvey laid a hand against Nick’s chest and pushed him back. “Go talk to Sabrina!”

Nick didn’t seem to take offence. He shrugged as if to say all right, then got up from his chair. “Mortal?”

Harvey risked a glance upward.

“Thank you,” Nick said, almost gentle. “I know this is new for you. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

Then he teleported away into the night.

Harvey shook his head, drained the coffee down the sink, and went to his room. Witches were wild. Nick was an intensely weird person. But Harvey had accomplished his task. He’d sent Nick off to Sabrina, and Nick could tell her his totally wrong-headed plan, and Sabrina would tell Nick that she loved Nick and only Nick. 

And Nick would be so happy. That would be good. 

He crawled into bed, too tired to even take off his shoes, and fell asleep with his head under the blankets to hide from the monsters. 

He woke to a soft, familiar sound.

For a moment it felt as though he was still in early December. Days after shooting his brother, with the cold memory of the gun lingering in his palms, but with the hope of Sabrina lingering warm in his heart. How she’d appeared at his window with a sigh of white curtains and her new white hair, and he’d suggested with his heart pounding, like someone at a door praying to be let in, that they could start again with no more lies.

She’d said no, and he’d thought of the boy he’d just met that night, horrifyingly handsome and terrifyingly cool and everything Harvey could never be, and clearly eager to do whatever Sabrina needed. She’d said, with tears in her eyes, that she loved Harvey too much to risk him getting hurt… but he’d known hurt was inevitable, no matter what. He hadn’t asked her if her answer had anything to do with Nick. He’d suspected already, and he hadn’t wanted to be sure.

He could save despair for the new year. 

It was the new year now, a still-cold March with no hint of spring in the air, and she was at his window in a beam of moonlight and a breath of cool air. As though no time had passed at all.

“’Brina,” Harvey murmured, moving to her almost in his sleep, with the beginnings of fear in his exhausted heart.

What had happened now?

She put her little hands in his as he reached out to her, and said, “Harvey, I love you.”

“I love you too, ’Brina,” he whispered back, natural as breathing. Loving her had always been that, for him. 

Her small hands were cold. He rubbed them with absent tenderness between his own palms, and they grew warm quickly.

She smiled up at him, dazzling as moonlight on lake water, but with tears like tiny diamonds bright in the corners of her eyes. 

“I missed you,” she said. 

“I miss you too,” he said. “God. So much. But—but what--”

His mind seemed still half-asleep, or in a winter dream, but he felt with vague uneasiness stirring beneath the moonlit-water calm that it was perhaps essential that he wake up and catch onto what was happening.

“I’m so happy,” Sabrina breathed, and kissed him. 

His senses reeled wildly, as if on a ribbon made of moonlight, spinning out into the night past hope of return. He’d asked for one last kiss in December. He thought, he’d said, that their kiss in February had to be the last time. Because she would always leave him. 

But it felt as though she was with him now, her small face upturned to his, pressing together as their hands pressed together. Through the open windows he could hear the wind in the beginnings of new leaves, which was her favorite sound in the world, and he could hear Sabrina’s breathing near to him, which was his favorite sound in the world. She was close, and safe, and dear. 

A third kiss, for spring, and this one didn’t feel like the last at all. He bent his head to hers and she kissed him, one hand curled around the collar of his shirt and the other at the nape of his neck. The sky had gone from black to white, when he finally opened his eyes.

They were both worn out, worse than they’d ever been after even the longest time playing before naptime when they were little kids. He didn’t want to let her go. He held her against his chest, wrapped in his arms with her face burrowed into his worn flannel shirt, for the longest time. Sabrina was pressed against his heart. The aching emptiness, knowing there was nobody who would love him if he couldn’t somehow persuade Roz, was gone as though all that pain had been a mistake. A bad dream. The one truth he’d believed his whole life, the truth he’d taught himself must be a lie, was true after all. They loved each other.

But she was almost swaying, and she had a family in a way he didn’t. Her Aunt Hilda and Ambrose would be distressed if she wasn’t in her own bed.

“’Brina,” he said at length. “You have to go.”

She nodded, without lifting her face from his chest. Her arms were around his waist now, her small hands knotted in fists around each other. 

“I know,” she told him. “I’ll see you in the morning. And I’ll tell you everything then! I have such plans. Everything’s going to be amazing, Harvey. You’ll see.”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him again. Her eyes were shining, but no longer with tears. 

Harvey went back to bed, sliding under the covers, warm at last. Finally, the miserable knot in his chest had eased. And, just the way Sabrina said she was, he was so happy. His eyes slid shut.

Then Harvey remembered a crucial fact, and sat bolt upright amid his twisted sheets. He stared around his room with abrupt wild terror. 

“Oh my God,” he said out loud, to the window open on the witches’ woods. “What have I done?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storms. Misunderstandings. Duets.

The next morning dawned with thunder, lightning, and a downpour of rain so heavy it made the sky press heavily down on the earth. Harvey took a parking space pretty far from the school, because some of the girls hated when they had to walk a long way and their hair got spoiled. He hadn’t planned out the distance all that well. He was wringing his sheepskin jacket dry at his locker when Theo approached, blue eyes full of concern.

In spite of Harvey being all soggy, Theo gave him a big hug. Harvey smiled down at Theo’s head and hugged him back.

“Heard about Roz,” Theo mumbled into Harvey’s damp shirt. “Sorry, bud.”

Theo let Harvey hang on for longer than usual, until Carl went by and coughed “So gay!” uncomfortably into his hand. Harvey and Theo rolled their eyes and Theo detached, with a pat for Harvey’s arm. 

“Maybe… maybe it’s for the best,” Harvey muttered, staring at his locker.

“Oh!” Theo sounded startled. “I mean… oh?”

There was a question in his voice. It was answered, but not by Harvey. Instead the silence was filled by the tap of high-heeled Mary Janes over the raven painted on the floor of Baxter High. A sound long absent from their halls. Sabrina’s new snowy hair and her black skirt were swaying like twin white and black bells, and around her throat was the gold necklace he’d given her.

He’d saved up all that summer, to buy the necklace for her near Halloween, and he’d figured she’d tossed it out not long after Christmas. But there the gold was, still shining.

She waved at them cheerily with both hands. “Hey, guys.”

“Wow, hi, Sabrina,” said Theo. “You’re coming back to school? Awesome. Thought you might be too busy being the Dark Lord’s broad.”

“Hi, ’Brina,” Harvey said. “The Dark Lord’s _sword_ ,” he added in an undertone.

“Was that what she said?” Theo’s eyes were darting between their faces. “I was further back from the action, I guess, so I wasn’t sure what was going on. To be honest, I’m not sure what’s going on now…”

“I’m not attending class!” Sabrina declared, joyously and truantishly. “I just wanted to see you!”

She put her hand, with those new dark nails, up and toyed with Harvey’s damp hair. Then she ran her fingers through it, and in the wake of her fingers his hair was dry. Doing magic openly in the school halls, that was new as the nails. His magic girl. Harvey couldn’t help smiling. 

“Thanks, ’Brina,” he murmured. 

“Ohhhhh,” said Theo, in the background. 

She smiled and leaned into Harvey’s chest, and he slipped an arm around her waist, the way he used to. He’d been worried the night before was a dream, an aberration she’d regret in the morning, but here she was fitting against him like a puzzle piece. 

“So you and Roz broke up,” Theo said, testing it out. “And that Nick Scratch guy is out of the picture because of the angel cheating, and you two got back together.” He started to smile. “That’s great! I mean—fairly fast, but I guess when it’s meant to be, it’s meant to–”

“Nick is still in the picture,” said Sabrina, sunnily. “We have all decided to be together!”

“Ohhhhhh?” Theo’s eyebrows shot up so far they hit his hairline, and for all Harvey knew might’ve slipped down the back of his neck. “Is that right?”

Behind Sabrina’s head, Harvey waved his free hand and urgently mouthed, “ _no_.” 

“Ohhhhhh!” said Theo. 

He put his hand over his mouth, then slid the hand up to cover his whole face.

Sabrina whispered in Harvey’s ear, “Skip your first class and I’ll meet you in the library?”

He nodded. He guessed he’d already skipped two days of school for celestial jailers, so what did another class matter? 

She skipped merrily away. Theo lowered his hand and gave Harvey such a look. Harvey directed his gaze to the floor.

“Did you… know I was still in love with Sabrina?” Harvey asked the floor.

There was a brief, terrible silence.

“Ah… yeah,” said Theo.

Harvey bit his lip. “Was it super obvious?”

“I mean, it’d be horrible, to Roz and generally, if I said even blind people could see it, so…” Theo made a helpless gesture, which Harvey only caught by seeing the moving shadow of his hands on the wall. 

“I really didn’t know.” Harvey continued addressing the floor. “It’s not your fault. It’s my fault, but—why didn’t you tell me?”

Theo’s small shoulders shrugged up helplessly under his big flannel shirt. “I didn’t know how to, Harv. Your brother was dead and Sabrina was a freaky witch and you looked all shattered to dust behind your eyes. There was a curse making Roz blind, and she was clinging onto you, and you were clinging onto her, and Sabrina brought some new magic hottie to the school dance—I could barely keep up with what was going on. And I had my own stuff, with coming out and dealing with jerks. I had to trust that we’d all work it out. Somehow. I didn’t expect the angels!”

“No-one expects the Spanish angel Inquisition,” intoned Harvey, and Theo rewarded him with a smile.

“Or for Sabrina to go all Galadriel with the one ring,” added Theo. 

Harvey had known forcing Theo to watch the Lord of the Rings would pay off. 

“Do you think…” Harvey spoke very quietly. “That all the eldritch mutant powers stuff might be causing Sabrina to… make a mistake about how she feels about me?”

“No,” said Theo. “I think she loves you. Which isn’t to say that the eldritch powers stuff isn’t concerning!”

“Kind of… also attractive, though?” Harvey checked to see what Theo’s thoughts were on this matter, and found Theo boggling at him. “Strong women!” he added defensively.

“Strong women, sure,” said Theo. “Apocalyptically destructive women, though, Harv?”

Harvey shrugged. 

“Well, I support you, you big freak. But speaking of attractiveness, what about that Nick Scratch guy? What was Sabrina talking about? Was that a hallucination?”

“Um,” said Harvey. “Right. That’s a misunderstanding.”

“It’s a hell of a misunderstanding!”

Harvey knew this sounded bad. He’d been up all night, thinking about how bad this might actually be, and trying to make it work in his head. Until calm descended. It was all pretty simple.

“The thing is,” said Harvey. “It’s normal for witches. They explained it to me, if they want someone they just add people like a big relationship clown car—”

“So you got in the clown car?” Theo demanded.

“No!” said Harvey. “I’m talking about witches! Nick had three girlfriends at once! That girl Prudence went after Ambrose, and would have shared Ambrose if the boyfriend hadn’t been murdered.”

“Murdered,” murmured Theo.

Harvey nodded. “I think Nick's trying to give me to Sabrina like--a pet—”

Theo’s mouth had fallen open. “You’re not a pet.”

“I just meant that’s how witches think of mortals,” said Harvey. “Not Sabrina, of course.”

“Harv,” said Theo. “Is he gonna make sure you get murdered?”

“I don’t… think so,” said Harvey. “They’re having this epic romance, so there are obstacles, but I know I can’t compare to him. I know I can’t compete. But—Sabrina said she misses me. Like… maybe a security blanket. And God, I missed her. I tried living without her, as well as Tommy, and it was too hard. I told myself every day that I could make it okay and it wasn’t. I was fooling myself about Roz but I can’t even do that anymore. I want to be with Sabrina. So I’ll just be a security blanket, while she’s learning how to be in the witch world and be with Nick. Then I’ll get out of Greendale and go to college and I’ll be okay, but I can’t be okay right now. Not in my dad’s house.” 

It was cowardly of Harvey, he supposed. In the end, his dad was right about him.

“I know it’s chickenshit,” he said, uselessly.

Theo’s face crumpled. “No. Harvey, it’s sad. But… can we go back to the clown car? Because there was talk of um, group stuff? In the tunnel?”

“Yeah,” said Harvey. “Witches.”

He shook his head ruefully. 

“Harvey!” said Theo. “Are you following me here! What are you going to do about Nick Scratch!”

Right, Theo was in the bad period of questioning Harvey had passed through at four this morning. But Harvey had overcome that.

Harvey confided the first stage of his scheme. “I’m gonna do nothing. I mean, when will I see him? Never, that’s when! When did any of us ever see any of the witches? And as soon as Sabrina started being a fulltime witch, we hardly ever saw her! It won’t—”

“Come up?” asked Theo.

“--be a problem!” Harvey said reproachfully. “Like, eventually I will see him. Sure. And I’d like to be friends. But it could be months! And by then he’ll understand I’m not getting in his way. Also something else will happen. So everything will be fine.”

Don’t ask what will happen, he prayed. He couldn’t tell Theo that he was certain Sabrina would sleep with Nick soon, and then Nick would settle down and be reassured Sabrina loved him. He didn’t want to think too much about that. 

Nick had told Harvey he wouldn’t be around that much. No doubt he’d be off doing cool witch stuff. So Harvey wouldn’t have to see Sabrina preferring someone else. He could have a little time with her to live on. 

“I have a plan for when I do see him,” continued Harvey. 

Horror descended on Theo’s face immediately. 

“A plan, like one of yours and Sabrina’s plan? A plan like the science fair that you made explode? A plan that ends in Billy’s legs breaking? A plan that winds up like the Jungle Gym Incident? A plan like the club that ended in spiders everywhere? A plan like—”

“Look, I will explain the plan in detail later,” said Harvey, feeling harassed. “Meet up at Dr Cerberus’s after dinner?”

“Can’t wait, but will,” said Theo. “Consider me filled with fascination and dread. Good to have you back. You psycho.”

Harvey shot Theo a smile to say, in a bro way, that he loved him too. Theo said too many confessions of bro love in school, or out loud at all, weren’t permitted. 

Theo just shook his head and did a dramatic eyeroll on his way to class. Harvey went to find his girl. 

\--

They wound up sitting in the library on one of the sofas, Sabrina in his lap with her arm around his neck. They’d never actually sat like this before. Harvey would’ve been too nervous to suggest it. Sabrina had learned some new tricks, over the past few months, and Harvey knew from who. 

“I haven’t changed at all, not really,” said Sabrina, his witch with the bone-white hair and the secret smile. She scrunched her nose. “Well, maybe I look a little different.”

“You’re--so beautiful, always,” said Harvey. “You were beautiful then and you’re beautiful now. I don’t—I don’t anticipate any end to your beauty. But I know you dress the way you do now because of—”

“Ms Wardwell,” said Sabrina, to Harvey’s total shock.

Oh wow, had he been wrong when he mentioned Sabrina possibly being a heterosexual? Oh gosh, but Ms Wardwell was an authority figure…? Since their teacher had started wearing body-conforming dresses, the other guys in the locker rooms had talked about her a lot in a disrespectful way. Harvey tried not to listen, especially about Sabrina’s favorite teacher, who must be a nice lady.

“She’s a witch too, but she’s very independent,” Sabrina continued. “I adopted her as my role model. She got her heart broken when her fiancée went away and started dressing differently, but she does fine. And now he’s back. And now you’re back.”

Harvey was stunned by the idea of Sabrina feeling heartbroken, even a little bit, over him. “I thought,” he said, very quietly. “I thought you saying you wanted to protect me might be an excuse. So—you could be with Nick.”

Sabrina bit her ruby lip. “Well… I did like him. I couldn’t admit it to myself, but… I did.”

“I know. It’s okay,” Harvey said.

Maybe a small part of him had hoped he’d got it wrong. But he’d known that wasn’t true. 

“But I really did want to protect you!” said Sabrina. “The Dark Lord is always watching witches, and he seems to have strange plans for me especially. I couldn’t risk you being involved. But now you have powers too.”

He was going to be involved whether he had powers or not. And Sabrina was always going to let him. But maybe she didn’t know that about herself.

He thought about Roz, cringing back from his touch.

“I don’t know that I want anything to do with… whatever powers I have.” 

“Oh.” Sabrina considered this. “It doesn’t matter. I have this new power now, so I can protect you,” said Sabrina confidently. “And Nick promised me he would take good care of you, too.”

“Did he,” Harvey said in a frozen voice. 

“You know, I’m surprised by how all this turned out, but I think now maybe it’s the way it was always meant to be,” Sabrina continued with her eerie new cheer. “My father wrote this book I’ve been reading, about uniting witches and mortals, and that’s what we must do!”

Your dad wrote a book about having a threesome?! Harvey thought but didn’t say. Given the way witches were, possibly Sabrina’s dad had written a book about having a threesome, and if so Harvey absolutely didn’t want to hear about it. The news about Sabrina’s Aunt Zelda and the sex demons was enough for the week on authority figures.

Sabrina put her arms around his neck and rubbed her nose against his, smiling as she did so, and he rubbed his nose against hers and smiled back. The couple Roz and Theo used to throw napkins at, childhood sweethearts, disgustingly in love.

“There must be a reason I can do all the things I can do,” she said. “Nick and I planned that I’d be the head of the Church of Night, but I can’t wait for that. I have to stop Father Blackwood, and save Ambrose and Aunt Zelda, and foil Satan’s plans, and unite everybody. I’m going to make everything work differently, for witches and mortals too. Now you’re with me, I feel much steadier. Safer.”

She’d said she felt danger, around Nick. And she felt safe, with Harvey. He was aware of how romance worked. He knew which option was, like… hot. And it was miserable, he’d lost even before he began, because he wanted to keep Sabrina safe.

“I can see everything much more clearly. I’m going to make everything work out. Will you keep holding my hand?”

“I will,” said Harvey. “But… what about Nick?”

Sabrina smiled at him. “I have two hands.”

She clapped her two hands together, and the dark sky outside the windows disappeared. Suddenly the sun was streaming through the windows, and birds were singing. 

“I was so anxious to see you, I didn’t even notice it was raining,” Sabrina said, leaning her shining head down on his shoulder. “Now see? That’s fixed too. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

\--

Sabrina didn’t stay in school. Roz hadn’t come to school at all, so Theo was going to drop by her house. Since Sabrina was mostly for the witches now, and Harvey had done a terrible thing to Roz by dating her when he was secretly still in love with Sabrina—even though that had been a secret from himself as well—that meant Roz deserved Theo’s company for now. 

Harvey deserved to come home and eat dinner in an empty house, his father’s truck still gone from outside. His dad didn’t have a shift or anything. He must be having fun with Marcia. Harvey thought of Marcia’s tired eyes, and hoped she was okay.

He went to his room, and to make the silence of the house a little less absolute, he took out his guitar. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to play one of the country songs his brother had liked, singing softly to himself.

A shadow moved in the corner of the room. Harvey’s heart lurched in his chest and he looked up into Nick Scratch’s dark, intent eyes.

Nick asked, in his low voice, “Why’d you stop?”

“Because I think I’m having a heart attack, Nick!” Harvey snapped, and then fear for Sabrina rippled through him. “Is everything okay? Why are you here right now?”

“I couldn’t come by before,” Nick said, mildly reproachful. “School just ended.”

“Oh, are you not expelled anymore?”

Finally, some good news.

“I’m not,” said Nick. “Father Blackwood’s back, and classes are back on. Some people think being imprisoned by angels is an excuse to miss class, but I am not among them.” 

“So, you’re the Hermione?” Harvey grinned. 

Dude Hermione, who wore a ton of black and had millions of hook-ups. The wizard story had taken a weird turn.

Nick gave him a puzzled look.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Harvey. “Glad you’re not expelled anymore.”

It seemed nobody was in any life-threatening danger. Nick’s attitude was very casual, but he also appeared to be in a good mood. Maybe… Sabrina must have said lovely, reassuring things to him? Maybe Sabrina had made a date for a special night? Maybe Nick was happy enough to let Sabrina have her mortal pet and leave it at that? And maybe… they were friends now? 

“Yes.” Nick continued to appear puzzled but also seemed pleased in a folded-up way. It was though he was pleased Harvey was pleased, but confused by that as well. “I’m glad too. Why don’t you keep playing? You’re pretty good.”

Harvey had never sung in front of someone before. He’d tried under Sabrina’s window once, but it hadn’t gone well. Sometimes he let Tommy listen from the other side of the door, and Tommy said he was great, but that was because Harvey was his kid brother. Once Theo had talked about starting a band, and it had been such a cool idea, but Harvey knew he couldn’t do it. 

He appreciated that Nick was being nice, but no thank you, Harvey was much too self-conscious to try that.

“If I hear the song again,” Nick continued, “I think I could sing it too.”

“You sing?” Harvey was charmed to hear it. 

“I’m a choirboy.”

Nick was a _choirboy_ who loved going to _class_. “Heh,” said Harvey. “Nerd.”

Nick’s mouth curled up on one side. “Won’t you show me how mortal songs go?”

Well. If it was for teaching, maybe. Harvey stared at his floor rather than at Nick, and pretended he was by himself. Or maybe that there was someone listening, on the other side of a door. After hesitantly singing and playing a few lines, he nerved himself to look up. Nick was leaning forward, attentive, eyes on the guitar strings. When Harvey sang the next line softer, experimentally, Nick sang it back to him, word-perfect.

“That’s great,” Harvey encouraged him. “You’re doing great.”

Nick nodded, smug as usual, as if to say ‘no news there, mortal.’ Harvey rolled his eyes and launched back into the song. Nick came to sit beside Harvey so he could watch the guitar playing more closely. Nick was as good as his word. By the second time Harvey sang the song, Nick was singing with him, shoulders pressed together. 

“—you belong in the front seat of any car,” sang Harvey.

“—you could be the DJ singing like a rock star,” sang Nick, who undoubtedly didn’t know what a rock star or a DJ was, smoky voice curling around the words. 

Harvey smiled over at him. He was so good. Perhaps now they were friends, Nick would like to join the hypothetical band?

Nick smiled back, a small smile but as real as Nick’s smiles ever got. Then he turned, the movement easy and natural and only the slightest shadow of predatory. He curled his fingers around the collar of Harvey’s shirt and brought their mouths together, tipping them backward. 

Harvey, caught entirely off guard—tricked! God! Witches!—tumbled onto his bed, half underneath Nick Scratch. It was deeply alarming that the kiss was happening, but the kiss itself wasn’t alarming. It was warm and sudden, changing to warm and slow. The kiss was insinuating, Nick’s mouth moving against his the same way Nick himself moved. Wouldn’t you like to kiss me back? the kiss said. I think you would. 

Nick let go of Harvey’s collar, only for his fingers to slide into Harvey’s hair, drawing himself in closer so their chests were pressed together. Nick’s free hand was at Harvey’s jaw, turning Harvey’s face in toward Nick’s, and Harvey would have shoved Nick away if Nick had tried anything else, but Nick sighed and stayed mostly beside him. In a way it was still like singing together, except instead of voices mingling it was… bodies. Almost twining together.

Harvey opened his mouth in what was going to be a protest, but the protest got lost somewhere in the kiss. Nick drew in a little catching breath, and Harvey’s eyes closed.

Then his eyes slammed back open. 

_This is how he gets them,_ Harvey thought, fatalistic. _This is how he gets them all._

This whole thing was a move. It was extremely smooth. It was extremely obvious Nick Scratch was here to get laid. Harvey eyed his own familiar ceiling with rising alarm, and horrified wonder at what his life had become. 

Close to his ear, Nick asked, “Can I go—” 

“Can we,” Harvey began, then broke off, trying to be polite. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“No, ask me for whatever you want,” Nick told him, voice going low and pleased as a purring cat. “The answer’s yes.”

“Okay!” said Harvey, panicking. “Let’s go for milkshakes.”

\--

Dr Cerberus’s was crowded with people who wanted to be out of their houses because it was a nice day, but had ducked in for a milkshake. They got the last booth in the place. The shop was buzzing, Nicholas Scratch was giving Harvey an expectant look over a strawberry milkshake, and Harvey had to have an uncomfortable conversation. 

Harvey cleared his throat. “This is very awkward. I’ve never asked anyone anything like this before in my life. But I feel like I kind of need to know.”

“Yes?” said Nick. He was lounging on the other side of the booth, indifferent in his fancy jacket. 

It seemed impossible, in the cheery orange and scarlet light of Dr Cerberus’s, to believe anything that had happened in the shadows of Harvey’s bedroom was real.

Harvey fixed his attention on the table.

“Um,” Harvey asked the napkin dispenser. “Do you have a crush on me?”

He didn’t risk looking up at Nick. He only heard a weird throat sound, like someone choking on a milkshake, then refusing through sheer outraged willpower to choke on a milkshake.

“How dare you, mortal,” snarled Nicholas Scratch. “Of course not!”

“No,” Harvey said hurriedly. “Obviously not. I’m sorry. That was dumb. I just got confused by all the attempts to make out.”

“I’d sleep with anyone!” snapped Nick. “Ask the witches! They’ll tell you!”

Please God, let nobody be listening to this conversation.

“They do!” said Harvey. “Sorry. Wow, I’m so sorry. That was really dumb.”

There was a short silence. Other people in booths were talking about their homework, and Harvey desperately envied them.

“It wasn’t… dumb,” said Nick. “It’s just—witches aren’t really meant to. Feel things like that.”

Harvey’s head jerked up. “But surely you and Sabrina--!”

“Yes,” said Nick. “I… love her. But it’s forbidden. Don’t tell anyone else I do.”

“Dude. That’s…” Harvey paused. “That’s super romantic.”

Of course, Sabrina could be beloved by someone for whom love was strange. Because she was a miracle. And he’d been right, Nick and Sabrina’s was a storybook kind of love, all epic and taboo and sweeping and stuff. This was the great love, and it hurt a lot, but that didn’t matter. 

Harvey didn’t know how not to care about someone who loved Sabrina. It was why he loved Sabrina’s Aunt Zelda and her cousin Ambrose, who had no time for him at all. He caught Nick’s eye for the first time since the terrible, mistaken crush question, and they had an odd gleaming moment of something shared. 

“You can… be in love with me if you want,” Nick offered, and Harvey heroically didn’t spill his milkshake. “I know mortals do it all the time.” 

“Kind of you to say,” Harvey said in a wooden voice. 

“I’d be—I would be nice about it. I wouldn’t… do what witches normally do when that happens.”

Harvey didn’t ask, because he didn’t want to know.

“Don’t think I’ll be taking you up on that one.”

“Suit yourself,” snapped Nick. “I sincerely don’t care.”

Because witches didn’t care about anyone or anything, generally. But Nick did love Sabrina, and he wanted her to be happy so much he was willing to offer her anything, including Harvey. And that was—beautiful, and super romantic. There was a lot of witch weirdness around the beauty and romance, but there was a lot of witch weirdness around their whole lives. Love was what mattered. 

“Right,” said Harvey. “Look, I know you said you could… endure it, but…”

“I could… prefer it,” said Nick.

“Sorry, what?” asked Harvey. “Prefer what?”

“Having one of each,” said Nick.

He spoke as if he was ordering off a menu, as if he was in a diner. Well, they were in a diner right now, but that wasn’t the point.

“Been a while since Ambrose,” Nick continued. 

Harvey stared in dismay. He wished Nick wouldn’t say terrifying things in the same way he said normal stuff. If he could just change tones a little bit, so Harvey could be braced for the horrors to come.

“Ambrose?” 

“I’d rather have you,” said Nick.

Wow. Ambrose was like, the coolest guy in all of Greendale. Harvey was extremely flattered for an instant, before he realized what Nick meant and snorted. 

“Sure,” he said with some asperity. “Because Sabrina wouldn’t put up with you trying it on with her cousin.” 

Nick smirked.

Harvey swallowed. “Nick. Can you maybe… just listen. Don’t make a sarcastic comment. Don’t give me a sarcastic look!”

Nick gave him a sarcastic look. Harvey didn’t know what else he’d expected.

“So… I think it’s great that you love Sabrina,” said Harvey. “Beautiful,” he added, since Nick’s whole world was telling him it wasn’t. “And I’m sure she loves you too.”

“—do you think so—” Nick’s voice was very low. Harvey wasn’t sure he’d heard right, but he nodded supportively just the same. 

Oh, God. How to put this? ‘I would like to date your girlfriend, because I am, pathetically, still in love with her. And I promise not to get in your way for too long. But I simply cannot—to borrow a phrase from Elspeth—toss you a bang every now and then while you count the days until Sabrina gives it up and I get murdered. Could we be friends?’ 

No. He couldn’t possibly say that. Harvey was second-guessing his decision to do this in public.

First off, he should make clear that he wasn’t going to stand in Nick’s way. He’d always wanted to go to college and get away from his dad. He’d believed he would go with Sabrina, once, but now he knew her place was here with the coven and with Nick.

“You know I won’t be around forever, right?” Harvey asked.

Nick didn’t need to worry about that.

“Of course I know,” said Nick, but he said it in a small voice, not an ‘of course’ voice at all.

“So after that, it will be you and Sabrina,” said Harvey, ignoring the pain in his own chest. “You were saying… you’re not sure how Sabrina feels about you, but I know her really well, and I am sure.” 

Nick was listening now, very attentively. Harvey had to explain the fact that Sabrina hadn’t thrown herself at Nick immediately didn’t mean she didn’t like him. Wow, his life.

“The thing about mortals is… we don’t like meaningless, um, encounters.”

Nick’s voice was amused. “That’s not what the Weird Sisters say.”

“Okay!” said Harvey. “Wow, you know what I meant! I was talking about how—Sabrina does things and how I do things. Look. I personally wouldn’t want to do, uh, anything with anyone where there wasn’t like, a mutual foundation of trust and affection.”

That was him out of the way, and he hadn’t had to say ‘not interested in being a celestial sex toy.’ Onto the important bit. 

“And Sabrina was raised in the mortal way most of her life,” Harvey continued. “That’s the way we tend to think. Of course there are exceptions!”

Nick nodded. “Like Hilda Spellman.”

Harvey was happy to hear this. He wasn’t sure he would survive hearing about Hilda and sex demons.

“She’s got that incubus boyfriend now, of course,” Nick mused.

Oh, thanks, Nick! Every day a nightmare!

At Harvey’s horrified look, Nick frowned thoughtfully. “I think they, er… love each other, though.”

Harvey relaxed. “Oh. Then it’s okay. And Miz Spellman raised Sabrina, as well as Sabrina growing up with mortals. So, my point is, building the mutual foundation of trust and affection takes time. It’s not an insult and it’s not a rejection. All you have to do is wait. Do you understand what I mean?” 

Nick, swirling the cherry on top of his milkshake, gave a single nod.

Cool. Now, time to propose being friends. "And meanwhile I think we could get along?"

Nick nodded again. This was going great.

“Hi Harv,” said Theo, bouncing in through the door, then stopped dead. “Um…. Hey… Nick…?”

Nick inclined his head. “Hi, Theo.”

“Everything okay?” Theo asked, with eldritch concerns clearly weighing heavily on his mind. “How’d you two run into each other?” 

Nick began, his voice entirely casual, “I was in his--” 

Harvey started violently and tipped his milkshake all over Nick’s fancy jacket. Nick gave him another sarcastic look, then started to wave his hand over his jacket. And his shirt. There was also milkshake in his curling eyelashes.

“—no don’t do magic in the coffee shop--” Harvey implored.

Nick sighed. “All right.” He raised his voice so Dr Cerberus’s other patrons could hear. “I’m going to the bathroom to clean off my shirt. In a mortal way.”

People should have looked at Nick as though he was a maniac. Instead several girls—and one adult woman!—stared after Nick wistfully, as though they wished to help him clean off his shirt. There was no justice. 

Theo slid into Nick’s former place in the booth. “So you’re never going to see him, huh.”

“I made a small error there,” admitted Harvey. “But I’ve cleared up all the confusion now!”

“What happened, Harv?” Theo demanded.

“Um, well, Nick showed up at my house, and I had to break it to him gently that he was under a mistaken impression,” said Harvey. “I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings.”

“Does he have feelings?”

“Of course he has feelings!” snapped Harvey. “He’s a great guy, Theo. And I already hurt Roz. I even hurt Sabrina. I don’t want to hurt anyone any more.” 

He’d already hurt Nick. _This is the first time I’ve hurt you,_ he’d said to Nick, on the altar. And Nick had said, _Are you sure?_

“Oh, don’t get that look,” said Theo. 

“What look!”

“All… ‘this is a good little Satanist, I will protect it,’” exclaimed Theo. “This is like that tiny vulture you adopted!”

Harvey didn’t know why Theo always had to harp on about the species of that poor fluffy baby bird he’d tried to save. It was speciesist. 

“You heard what happened. I asked him to erase my memories, which means I told him I didn’t want to remember him at all. It would be horrible to have anyone tell you they wished they’d never met you. I feel so bad about it,” Harvey said wretchedly.

“Yeah, but do you feel bad enough to _have sex with him_?” 

Why would Theo go and say a thing like that?

“Wow, no,” said Harvey. “No! Obviously that isn’t going to happen. I just explained that to him.”

“How’d he take it?”

“He took it fine,” said Harvey, wondering what about this Theo wasn’t following. “Witches don’t really care who they sleep with, it can be anyone, it doesn’t matter. He just thought Sabrina wouldn’t be mad if it was me.”

Theo’s face was scrunched up. “What if he likes you?”

“He doesn’t,” said Harvey. “I asked, and he said no.”

Which had been a huge relief. It had been confusing, since—well, to mortals making out meant different things, and when Harvey had believed Harry was someone else it had seemed clear Nick was hung up. But obviously, now Harvey knew he was Harry—no.

“Oh,” said Theo. “Okay. Yikes. Anyone, huh?”

Harvey didn’t get it either. The idea seemed horrible to him, in the exact same way his dad with that poor woman seemed horrible to him. If something could mean affection, and instead meant nothing, why shine a spotlight on nothing? 

But mortals and witches alike wanted what he didn’t. Harvey should accept it, without judging. That was what a friend would do. 

“I think maybe Sabrina and he need to be in an open relationship for a while,” Harvey said. “So she doesn’t feel pressured, and he doesn’t go around ready to sleep with absolutely anybody. Not judging! Not my business. Maybe that friend of his, Dorian... not important. The important thing is, I explained where I was at, and he got it, and everything is fine, and we’re just gonna be friends. Which is why I need your help!”

“Er,” said Theo. “How am I supposed to help with your sexy Satanism problems?” 

“You’re the greatest friend in the whole world,” said Harvey.

Theo sighed. “No I’m not, you just have low standards.”

“You are,” insisted Harvey, who knew this to be true. There wasn’t much he was certain of, but he could be certain of Theo. “You told off me and Roz for being unfair to Sabrina, and you were right. You’re always right and you’re always there for your friends, and I want to be more like you.”

“So you can be there for Nick Scratch.”

“Yes,” said Harvey. “And make up for being mean to him. And also be a better friend to you! And Roz, if she will let me.”

“What about Roz?” Nick asked, in a chilly voice.

He stood by the booth, entirely free of milkshake after two minutes. Wow, how did nobody notice when people were witches? Theo gave Nick an alarmed glance, but Theo didn’t need to worry: Harvey knew how to get rid of Nick. Harvey felt he was on fire with plans today. He’d noticed the smitten glances Nick had been casting over Harvey’s shoulder since they sat down.

“Nick, did you want to go look at the books?”

“Yes,” said Nick immediately. “You don’t mind?”

“Uh, no. Theo and I will stay here and talk about—homework! I must catch up on my reading.”

“Probably a good idea,” Nick drawled. “See you in a bit, farm boy.”

“Sure,” said Harvey. “Let’s hang out soon. Looking forward to that.”

Another gleam lit Nick’s generally saturnine countenance, making him briefly look as young as Harvey and Theo. All the witches seemed jaded, older than students should be, so that was nice. Generally, it would be good if Nick was happy more often.

“Yeah,” Nick said, a little softer. “Me too. And… I understand what you were saying. I’m glad you told me.”

“I’m glad too,” said Harvey, nodding to Theo with emphasis: see how great the talk had gone? 

He was giving Theo a significant look, so he didn’t spot the danger he was in until Nick swooped. It was just Theo’s face across the table from him, eyes wide for some reason, and then the reason arrived. Nick leaned down and kissed him, light but lingering. Harvey’s hand went up in a gesture like birds startled out of a tree, but once it was lifted he didn’t know what to do with it. His hand ended up on the collar of Nick’s jacket.

“Don’t worry,” Nick murmured, against Harvey’s mouth, “I can wait.”

Nick sauntered off toward the bookshelves. Harvey sat stunned in the booth, with Theo staring at him over the decimated milkshakes.

“Oh yeah,” said Theo in hollow tones. “Looks like your big explanation went awesome.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick was a shirtless maniac in Harvey’s bedroom.

Harvey was trying to make a plan for everybody to be friends, but Theo kept focusing on the irrelevant fact Nick had kissed Harvey. Even though Harvey had explained the kiss five times. If Harvey could overlook it, he felt his best friend should do so as well. For Nick, a kiss wasn’t that different from a handshake. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t important! 

“Theo, c’mon, please drop it.”

“You weren’t exactly fighting him off there, Harv.”

“I know…” Harvey muttered.

It was what he didn’t know that mattered. _I don’t know how to turn away something that feels like affection, even though I’m aware it isn’t: I don’t know how to do anything but welcome it._ He couldn't tell Theo that. Theo would think he was pathetic, and that would be true.

“If he doesn’t like you, but he’s making passes, is this about the… angel… powers… you apparently have?” Theo asked.

“Please don’t talk about those,” Harvey whispered.

“I was trying to be diplomatic,” said Theo. “I didn’t call you Heaven’s Greatest Love Machine.”

“Augh, fine. That’s probably the attraction, yeah,” said Harvey. “A witch called Elspeth showed me her whole bra!”

Theo laughed, heartlessly. “What has Nick Scratch tried to show you?”

“Nothing!” said Harvey, then admitted, “He does try to make out a lot.”

“What do you mean by a lot?”

Harvey was silent. He could really use some support right now.

“Oh, that much, huh? Do you think you’ll enjoy having a threeway with Satanists?” asked Theo, at horrifying volume. “Because if you don’t take action, that’s where this could end up!”

People in other booths were giving them such looks.

“Be quiet, be quiet, it will not,” scolded Harvey.

Dr Cerberus came over to ask them to keep it down. Harvey assured him they would, then remembered Dr Cerberus was an incubus and gave him incubus side-eye. 

“Your plan is going badly like all your plans go!” exclaimed Theo.

“So I have a new plan,” said Harvey, and ignored Theo putting his head down on the table. “Talking to Nick didn’t work! I’m going to talk to Sabrina about giving Nick the all-clear for an open relationship, so he’s, um, set there. And I will make clear that no celestial uh… favors will be provided, so that should fix that. And meanwhile tell me your secrets to being a great friend.”

Theo lifted his face from the tabletop. 

“You know what?” he said. “I do have some advice. You’re already a really good friend, Harv. Trust your instincts. You knew what to say to me, when I came out.”

“No, I didn’t,” confessed Harvey. “Roz told me.”

“Yeah, you did,” said Theo. “You told me Theo sounded good, and you gave me a hug, and you never ever slipped up and called me Sooz even though you love your pet names.” 

Harvey did like having special names for his special people. He was the one who’d started calling his brother ‘Tommy,’ until nobody called him Tom anymore. Tommy would correct them with the grin that made everybody like him, and say ‘Tommy’ as if Harvey got to name his big brother. He’d looked up nicknames for Theo and considered Ted, but he knew it was important Theo had chosen his name, and Harvey didn’t want to disrespect that. 

Theo was continuing. “And you told me I was a natural at tying bowties. You asked Roz the stuff about being trans you didn’t know, but you supported me right away. You’re good at that. You kept asking Sabrina to be honest with you, because you knew something was up when none of the rest of us did. Like, you’re a dope in many areas of your life and all, Harv, but you got this. You know how to be there for someone. Just do that.”

“Wanna hug now?” Harvey asked, touched.

Theo shook his napkin as though waving a red flag. “Nope, get away from me!”

Since Harvey didn’t want to have lied to Nick about talking homework, he then asked what he’d missed at school while he was in angel jail. Theo filled Harvey in before he had to go back to his dad: Theo’s dad worried when Theo was out late. Harvey found that strange and sweet of Theo’s dad, to care where Theo was and if he was safe. He guessed it made sense, though. If you had a great son like Theo, of course you’d want to be sure where he was.

After the bells jangled in Theo’s wake, a text message from Theo buzzed on Harvey’s phone.

_Ur boyfriend is still in the bookstore._

Harvey texted back, _I hate u._

Then he bit his lip and texted, _not rly._

 _I know, Harv,_ Theo texted.

_I love u rly._

_I KNOW, HARV!!!_ Theo texted back. 

Harvey put his phone in his pocket and went to find Nick, who was indeed still in the bookstore, sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by piles of books. 

“Hi, mortal.” Nick looked up from a book with dreamy nerd eyes. “Did you want to go? Can I buy these first?”

Why would Harvey wanting to go mean that Nick had to buy books? Nick appeared to be getting up. 

“Uh,” said Harvey. “You don’t have to stop looking at the books.”

Nick’s book-induced haze brightened, like the sun suffusing mist with light. “Oh,” he asked, “did you want to look at them too?”

“Well…” Harvey said. “Okay.”

Nick seemed so thrilled by the prospect. Harvey didn’t have anything else to do. He sat down cross-legged on the floor as well. Nick brightened further, edged closer, and showed him a horrifying drawing with entrails. Harvey was used to this behavior from the witch kids.

“The Phoenician way of fortune telling is totally distinct from any other kind of fortune telling,” Nick confided.

“Cool,” fibbed Harvey, supportively.

Nick grinned. “It is cool!”

Scary drawings aside, it actually wasn’t that different to hanging out with Roz or Sabrina in the library. It was familiar and lovely to see someone super smart get enthusiastic about learning. Nick told him some more about the history of fortune telling as an art form, and Harvey made encouraging noises. Then Nick, as Sabrina and Roz had before him, lapsed into a reading daze in which he clearly believed he was still communicating though that wasn’t actually true.

“Obelisk,” he murmured at one point. 

“Obelisk,” Harvey assented.

“Mmm,” said Nick, obviously deep in thought and happy about it. “Obelisk.”

“You’re a nerd,” Harvey said, affectionately. Nick smiled down at his book page.

Since this would probably take a while, Harvey got down one of the big art books that were super expensive, so he had to be careful when he looked through them. He glanced up to show interest at the intervals when Nick surfaced and absolutely had to tell Harvey a fascinating magic fact. Nick actually appeared to be going harder at nerding than Sabrina or Roz ever had: Harvey was impressed. 

Eventually Nick looked up from the page properly, and surveyed the coffee shop with a worried air.

“Can’t stay until it closes every time,” he said. “That’s one of the rules. Sabrina told me. There are many rules you didn’t inform me of. Like, when you go to the movies, Sabrina wants to watch the trailers!”

“Yeah, she likes that,” said Harvey. “Don’t know why.”

“I don’t know why anyone ever goes to the movies when they could go to the bookstore! The movie Sabrina and I saw was not good.”

“If the movie’s bad and you’re there on a date, you make out,” explained Harvey. “That’s why you go to see bad movies on dates.”

“Oh!” said Nick, with rising indignation. “That makes perfect sense. But it would have been useful to know before!”

“Well, don’t look at me like that,” said Harvey. “It’s not my fault you didn’t know.”

“It is your fault,” said Nick. “It is all your fault. If you hadn’t taken a wild hair and insisted on memory spells and _Rosalind_ , you would have been there to tell me. Don’t talk to me. Idiot mortal. I’m vexed with you. Hold these.”

Harvey had already been reaching out for the books. There were too many of them. Nick couldn’t possibly carry them all on his own. He took the towering pile. 

Nick didn’t actually appear that angry with him. Harvey had experience with his dad being mad at him. And it was a little endearing, the way Nick and Prudence and the other witches changed back and forth from archaic to modern language. _Code-switching_ , Roz would have called it. Harvey slanted a grin Nick’s way. Who said ‘vexed’? 

Nick was collecting up more books, still grumbling.

“I had to do it all on my _own_. You’re lucky I’m quick, and got the hang of dates fast. Do something they enjoy, compliment them at the end, don’t teleport into their bedroom. There are five hundred rules but I have it down.”

Dr Cerberus didn’t look annoyed anymore when they got to the cash register. 

“My best customer, and you’ve been here twice,” he said to Nick.

“I like it here,” Nick said, beaming. “I will come back again.”

“I’ll get in some more of the esoteric occult books,” promised Dr Cerberus.

Harvey decided it was fine that Dr Cerberus was an incubus. He loved Hilda Spellman—very understandable—and he was nice with Nick. Harvey liked Dr Cerberus again.

He didn’t like Billy and Carl, who were passing them by on their way from a booth table littered with milkshake wrappers. Carl was staring at Nick the same way Nick stared at books. Billy’s mouth curled as he met Harvey’s eye.

“Here with your boyfriend, Kinkle?”

“Yes, he is,” Nick said casually. 

Harvey’s soul left his body a little bit. Just enough so he felt slightly apart from the situation, looking at himself and being like, oh wow, a demented witch is causing a lot of problems for that guy! Sucks to be that guy!

Billy and Carl both seemed taken aback. Maybe, Harvey thought tentatively, this was Nick taking a stand against homophobia, in which case it was—good? Nick couldn’t possibly believe what he was saying. 

Nick leaned his chin against Harvey’s shoulder, which was easy enough to do as that was about where Nick’s chin was, height wise. And fine, Harvey guessed.

“So you can’t have him,” he informed Carl. “Or me. That’s not how it works.”

Carl’s soul also appeared to flee his body. Join the club, Carl! Harvey tried to formulate a strangled protest, but he couldn’t summon any words.

“Maybe you can have that guy,” continued Nick, gesturing Billy’s way. “He’s the one you want most, right?”

Billy’s face showed the stony horror of a man who was struggling, against all odds, to believe in his bro’s nonexistant heterosexuality. Carl actually looked badly upset.

“But the one you want is Theo,” Nick told Billy affably, though with a needle in it. “Right? I can usually tell.”

“Wrong, insane private school guy!” snapped Billy, now starting to look badly upset himself.

“Nick, don’t,” Harvey said softly.

Nick rolled his eyes and made a dismissive gesture as if to convey ‘shoo, other mortals!’ Billy and Carl exited the store. 

Since Harvey had to carry more than half the books, he guessed it made sense that Nick came home with him. Maybe there were too many books for Nick to teleport with? Harvey was trying to count the books when he noticed one of them was the art book he’d been looking at.

“What’s this?”

“For you,” Nick explained, as though it was simple. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

“I…” said Harvey. “Yes, but—Nick, it was so expensive! You shouldn’t have done this!”

“A lot of the others were more expensive, don’t worry about it,” said Nick.

Wow, esoteric occult books must cost the earth. But Nick had a lot of money, because his parents were dead, so maybe expense didn’t matter to him.

“Thanks…” said Harvey, uncertainly.

Nick nodded, then returned to the subject of enchanted medieval weaponry, which he’d been on before he noticed the time in the bookstore. They went into Harvey’s house together. It was dark and cold, so Harvey’s dad was presumably still bothering that poor woman. Harvey was sort of glad Nick was there, though Nick was a terrible guest and immediately went to lay down on Harvey’s bed and read one of his books. 

Wow, what if Harvey wanted to be in his own bed? It was pretty late. Did that not even occur to Nick? Witches were so thoughtless. 

When Harvey went to get Nick some tea, he came back and found Nick standing at Harvey’s drawing desk, with Tommy’s sweater in his hands. Nick must have fished it out of the trash. Nick’s dark eyes were narrowed in concentration, and under his hands the bloodstains on the wool were vanishing away.

When he was done, he folded it and put it down on the desk, and met Harvey’s startled gaze.

“That sweater isn’t great. None of your clothes are great,” said Nick, which helped Harvey stop feeling impossibly touched. “But you looked upset that it was ruined. So now it’s fixed.”

“Thank you,” said Harvey. “I—thank you so much. It was my brother’s.”

A cloud passed over Nick’s face, but Harvey couldn’t really read it. He could just see the darkness. “Your brother. Was he… much like you?”

“Oh, no.” Harvey was scandalized, as he’d been when Elspeth asked: it was so strange that the witches hadn’t known Tommy, and could even imagine such a thing, when all of Greendale had known the truth. “Tommy was totally different from me. He was the type of person who really matters, you know? He was brave, and strong, and he was kind. Just being around him made you feel better about everything. He was a hero.” 

And Harvey had shot him. 

He’d been sorry after, had climbed up on the bed and held his brother, cradled Tommy’s head in his bloody hands as though he could put Tommy’s ruined skull back together again. But nobody could put his brother back together again. Sabrina had tried, and that had been what brought Tommy shambling to their door. That was how Harvey had learned he was the type of person who could go colder than death itself, and do what he’d done. 

He wasn’t someone who could help.

Nick was giving Harvey a strange look. If he was thinking Harvey was pathetic or awful, Harvey didn’t want to hear about it. He went over to the sweater and touched it, palm against the soft wool as though he could put his arms around his brother again. Tommy had hugged him whenever Harvey wanted. He always said being with Harvey was his favorite place to be. 

“Thanks again,” Harvey whispered. This was so kind of Nick.

“Well,” said Nick. “It’s good that you like it.”

Harvey couldn’t exactly hold onto Tommy’s sweater and cry, not when Nick was there. He hunted for a different source of comfort. “So…” he said. “Obelisks?”

“Ah.” Nick cheered up. “You want to hear more about them! Who wouldn’t?”

“Totally,” said Harvey.

Nick climbed back onto the bed and flipped open his book so he could read a passage about how the shape of obelisks symbolized sun rays, but a reverse obelisk could symbolize a moonbeam, which was more useful for witches. It actually was interesting to think about the significance of shapes.

When Nick lapsed back into a reading reverie, Harvey read his art book. It was different, being able to read the whole thing cover to cover instead of in guilty careful snatches at the store. He made a few doodles that would remind him of what he wanted to do, later. Little sketches were more helpful to him than notes, but teachers got mad at him for making them in school.

At one point, Harvey looked out his window and the sky was the deep dense black that reminded him of the mines. Okay, it was late.

Harvey looked over at Nick, lying on his stomach on the bed peacefully reading about obelisks. “So… you’re still here.”

“You said I could be here anytime I wanted,” Nick pointed out. “That time when I was drunk.”

Wow, was there no end to the stupid things Harvey said that were continually getting him in trouble! His dad was right about him.

“I thought you didn’t remember anything about that!”

“Bits of it came back to me,” Nick said unrepentantly, the huge liar. “Relevant bits. I shouldn’t be here?”

“You’re welcome,” Harvey assured him, because he was: it was only a little strange. Harvey didn’t understand what was going on, but Nick was still welcome. “Do you want… like, a snack? Lasagna isn’t a snack!” he stipulated hastily.

Nick made a face at him. “Witch hunters are mean.”

Harvey made a face back. Nick reached for his next book. Harvey returned to reading. By the time he was done, the pages had gone a little fuzzy and he was yawning. He went to the bathroom and got into his pjs, tired enough to climb onto the bed beside Nick. At least Nick was tired too, drowsing with his head down on his arm.

“Hey,” Harvey said, softly because Nick seemed exhausted sometimes. “It’s late.”

“I noticed that,” Nick mumbled. “Wondered when you were coming to bed.”

Nick transferred his head to Harvey’s arm rather than his own. 

“Um… what?” said Harvey. “Hey, listen… I think I have to say…”

He tried to think of a tactful way to hint that perhaps Nick should go home. 

“Oh, right. No, I’ll say it. I had fun this evening,” said Nick, lazily. “You’re pretty, except for almost all your clothes and the way you do your hair. On our next date we can do something you enjoy.”

He leaned over and kissed Harvey on the mouth, which left Harvey in shock as usual, though Harvey wasn’t sure why he remained stunned over something that kept happening. The kiss was light, as though it was a greeting or a goodbye, but then Nick returned to using Harvey’s arm as a pillow.

“Um, wait…” said Harvey at last, but there was no waiting. Nick was already asleep.

Tomorrow, he absolutely had to have the open relationship talk with Sabrina.

Compliment them at the end, Nick had said in the bookstore when describing dates. What on earth had Nick said to Sabrina, Harvey had to wonder? Probably the compliments had been better since Nick actually liked Sabrina. 

The main problem here was Nick might genuinely believe he and Harvey had just been out on a date! 

Harvey was using his bed for existential dread rather than sleeping, these days. 

\--

Harvey had a lot of nightmares, since he lost his brother. He’d always wake quietly, crouched like a small scared child under the blankets, terrified to make a noise in case the monsters saw him.

Nick woke from nightmares moaning and snarling, like an animal in pain. Harvey woke to Nick saying “No!” as though it was the only word he knew. The blankets were a hopeless tangle. Nick was almost off the bed.

Harvey retrieved him, and got an arm around him, murmuring comfort and trying to make Nick wake up.

“Hey,” Harvey said, felt Nick startle back, and restrained him gently but firmly. “I’ve got you, you’re safe. Wake up.”

“I…” said Nick. 

That wasn’t the hopeless repeated ‘no,’ and sounded like he was surfacing, so Harvey let go of him. He sat up in bed and Nick blinked up at him, in the tarnished-silver moonlight. 

“What did you do?” Nick demanded.

“Woke you up…?” said Harvey. “Seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

“No, what did you do to make Him go away!”

There was something about the way Nick said ‘Him,’ in the same way Harvey’s grandpa or Roz’s father said ‘the Lord.’ Harvey was reminded of a night from one of the lost days, when they were friends.

Harvey turned on the little lamp by his bed.

“Nick,” Harvey whispered. “Is it Satan in your dreams?”

Nick hesitated, looking away in the too-bright light, then nodded.

“Who else knows about this?” Harvey continued.

“Just you,” muttered Nick.

Just Harvey. Which meant, for months, that it had been just Nick, all alone.

“You have to tell Sabrina.”

Nick shook his head involuntarily. “I can’t do that. There’s… the Dark Lord comes to witches in their dreams, and asks them for a Dark Devotion. Whatever he asks, the witch always has to do it. He asked Sabrina to burn down your school, and she tried to fight but then she agreed to do it.”

“Burn down our--? That’s real delinquenty of Satan,” observed Harvey.

“He wanted to know she would do it because her mortal life was there,” said Nick. “She was with you there. She loved it, so he wanted to know she would burn it. He wants to burn the very hearts out of us. And nobody ever says no.”

“But you did,” said Harvey. “You are.”

Nick was silent. He opened his mouth a couple of times, as if struggling to answer. Harvey thought he understood, now. Nick didn’t want to worry Sabrina, and he wouldn’t want her to feel bad, if she’d given in and Nick hadn’t. Harvey was deeply impressed. If Sabrina had given in, Harvey would’ve thought anyone would.

“Nick,” Harvey told him. “This is so awesome. You’re so brave.”

“I,” began Nick. “I’m not…”

“No, you really are,” Harvey said. Nick had turned his face away, so Harvey reached out and turned his face back toward Harvey’s, hand light against Nick’s jaw. Nick stared, dark eyes wide. “Nick. I mean it. You’re awesome and brave.”

“Okay,” said Nick, on a sigh, sounding as though he was giving in. 

“What can I do to help you?” 

“What did you do just now?” Nick wanted to know. “You were there, and He went away.”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Harvey. “Just—touched you, I guess.”

There was a long silence, in which Nick appeared to be studying him.

“The angels made Him leave the garden,” Nick observed. “With a flaming sword. So the story goes.”

“Oh, this is about the—angel power stuff!” exclaimed Harvey. “Oh, great, finally it does something useful. Fine, that’s easy, I’ll do that. What else can we do against Satan?”

The killing people and the sexy business were too scary. This was great. But for some reason Nick seemed surprised. 

“You’ll do… what?”

Harvey didn’t see where the confusion was. 

“This,” he answered, and reached out, which was slightly more alarming when Nick was awake, but after a moment wasn’t alarming after all. 

There was tension running through Nick’s body, but the muscles of his back went less tense when Harvey ran a soothing hand up and down said back. Nick let out a sound, half sigh and half punched-out almost-pained noise, and melted against him.

“Shhh,” said Harvey. “No more bad dreams. You can sleep here until we work this out. It’s fine.”

Something easy and simple, at last. Someone had bad dreams, so you held them. What was difficult about that? 

Things felt slightly more complicated when Nick looked up at him in a certain way, through his dark lashes and considering, the glance seeming literally hot like being touched with the bright tip of a candle flame. Nick was lying very close. A warning system Harvey hadn’t realized he possessed seemed to ignite something along his spine, promising this kiss wouldn’t be brief. He panicked and shoved Nick’s head down onto his shoulder or thereabouts, and petted Nick’s hair to show it wasn’t, like, a rejection. 

It was just a diversionary tactic until Harvey could put his plan into motion and Sabrina could tell Nick he could sleep with any dudes he wanted! There would be no problems then! Nick would be happy.

“Hush,” he told Nick firmly. “Time for sleep.”

He felt the movement of eyelashes against his throat as Nick blinked. Then, tentatively as he wasn’t when going in for a kiss—when there was no hesitation at all!—Nick slid an arm around Harvey’s waist and settled in.

All right, everything was fine again. Nice, even. Until Harvey tried to move away. 

“Hang on,” said Harvey. Nick made a refusing noise. “Can I just… turn off the lamp…”

“I like lamp,” murmured Nick.

Ha, he was so tired he wasn’t making any sense.

Harvey laughed into Nick’s hair, curling with luxuriant welcome against the pillow. “You like lamp?”

“Mortals are so ingenious, I’ve always thought,” Nick said, still analytical while sounding half-asleep. “In the Academy, all our lights are magical. Satan brings us light, but you mortals make light for yourselves, in your little warm homes. When I ran with the wolves and we were near mortal houses, I’d watch mortals though the windows, and Amalia would laugh at me. She used to say, what do you want, a mortal for your very own…”

“She shouldn’t have laughed,” Harvey whispered back, distraught for him. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Nick curled back into Harvey’s side, voice gone rich with satisfaction. “I have a mortal for my own now.”

He tucked his cheek in against Harvey’s throat, with a small pleased sound. 

Wow, Harvey kept on being surprised, every time he received another reminder that his life had spun out wildly out of control! Tomorrow, Harvey promised himself as he drifted back to sleep, he would have the open relationship talk with Sabrina.

When Harvey’s alarm clock went off that morning, Nick cast a spell that made it turn into a shower of silver sparks. 

“Nicholas!” Harvey exclaimed. “What did you do!”

“Wtsfgl,” said Nick, and put his face back into the pillow, seeming serenely oblivious to what he had done. 

With some difficulty and many complaining noises from Nick, Harvey disentangled himself, went and got dressed in the bathroom, and fixed coffee for Nick. That would help get Nick out of bed. 

“Wake up,” Harvey said, and poked Nick in the shoulder. “Come on, I brought you coffee. You have to be awake to drink coffee.”

Nick levered himself up on his elbow, leaned against Harvey’s shoulder, a warm sleepy weight, and drank the coffee with his eyes closed.

“No I don’t,” he said, gave the empty cup back to Harvey, and tried to disappear beneath the duvet.

“Hey, you have to wake up.”

Nick, foiled in his escape attempt, burrowed his face into Harvey’s shoulder. “I resist you,” Nick mumbled. “Witch hunter.”

Nick looked a lot younger with his hair gone wildly curly all over the place, face unguarded with sleep. He couldn’t have got much rest, in angel jail and being tormented by Satan. He was so brave and it was too sad. Harvey didn’t have the heart to shake him again.

“Yeah, speaking of, what if my dad finds you here?” Harvey asked. “I want you to be safe. Will you promise to teleport if the door opens?” 

“Promise,” said Nick. 

He shouldn’t let Nick sleep the whole day away. “Be up before noon, okay?”

“Witch hunters,” Nick grumbled. “Relentless oppression. Very ruthless. Very cruel.”

Harvey hit Nick in the head with a pillow, and Nick confiscated the pillow for his nest of oversleeping, so Harvey gave up and went to school.

\--

“Baxter High is on fire with gossip about you!” Theo declared as soon as they met in the halls, with no opening hug to soften the blow or anything. 

Harvey clutched the straps of his schoolbag. “Oh my God.”

“What did you do in front of Billy! You know Billy is the biggest gossip in school!” 

“It wasn’t me…” said Harvey. “It was Nick… I blame him for this and everything.”

“Well, I don’t see your boyfriend around here having to face the homophobe music!”

“What boyfriend,” Harvey asked. “Who do you mean?”

Theo’s blue eyes narrowed.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Harvey insisted. “We are having a misunderstanding! But he would be here if he thought I was in trouble.” 

“He is trouble,” muttered Theo. “What happened to never seeing him, what happened to that?”

“That was a miscalculation,” admitted Harvey. “He is around a lot.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“… this morning…” said Harvey.

Theo snorted. “Walked you to school, did he?”

“Wow, no,” said Harvey. “Not an early riser, Nick. Couldn’t get him out of bed.”

Theo almost walked into a locker. 

“Bed!” shouted Theo. “ _Whose bed_?”

“Uh…” said Harvey. “I know this sounds bad, but actually…”

“Was it your bed, Harv?”

“Yeah,” mumbled Harvey. “Yes it was, but you see, it’s very important for—witch reasons that I can’t explain—that he stay over…”

Theo’s silence was deafening. People were giving Harvey weird sideways glances as he went down the hall, as though he’d given himself a dramatic makeover like Sabrina or Ms Wardwell. Harvey hadn’t given himself a makeover.

“Witch reasons,” he repeated at last. “Very important.” 

“Harvey,” said Theo. “When everyone thought I was a girl, they would give us Talks about boys who only want one thing and make up many outlandish stories to get it!”

Harvey was silent. He couldn’t explain Nick’s problems with Satan, they seemed personal, but even discounting the satanic aspect Nick wouldn’t do something like that.

Besides, Nick could get it all over town. Not from Harvey! But generally, so why would he bother?

“By the way, I’m into guys,” said Theo. “Still. Always. Whatever. I was working out how to tell people tactfully, but since you went and got yourself a boyfriend, who cares about anything anyway!”

“Thanks for telling me,” said Harvey. “I, um, love and support you as, like, your friend but also an ally—”

“Such an ally!” mocked Theo. 

Harvey shoved him, but gently, because he didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all Theo.

“Hey,” he joked. “If you want a boyfriend, apparently Nick is ready to be absolutely anybody’s boyfriend?” 

Wait… was that maybe a good idea? Harvey started to have the beginnings of a plan. If Nick wanted a mortal, surely he’d like an upgrade to one of the best mortals, and Theo had said Nick was hot… It might be weird but everything was already so weird, maybe that didn’t matter…

“I am not getting in the clown car,” said Theo with absolute conviction, shooting down the plan before it had a chance to fly. “Sabrina’s at the wheel of that clown car, and—with love—she’s out of her mind. You’re also crazy. I don’t know about Nick yet. Maybe he just has an unfortunate fetish for the insane. Anyway when I get a boyfriend he will be nothing to do with any of you!”

“Nobody’s in the clown car!” said Harvey. “Nick and I are just friends! Who are having a misunderstanding! Oh, Nick says Billy likes you.”

This was the first good thing about Billy that Harvey had ever noticed.

“I know that,” said Theo, with perfect composure. “Gross.”

“You can do better,” Harvey confirmed. “Uh, is Roz in school? Has she… heard…”

The thought of Roz, thinking even worse of him than she already did, made his stomach plummet to his knees. 

“Her dad thinks she’s having a crisis because of her eyes being miraculously recovered, and he’s taken her to the city,” said Theo. “But she’ll be back soon! And then what will she think!”

“By then I will have cleared up the misunderstanding,” Harvey told him firmly.

There was a lot more staring in the halls, and a couple people called Harvey homophobic slurs. It sucked, but it had actually happened before, and at least it made sense to Harvey now. It used to be people would say those things because Harvey was into art, and flinched when his friends got hurt. It was ridiculous, when he’d been transparently devoted to one girl—and more recently, a second girl—for his whole life. He’d never understood why people said it, except for the fact they were horrible.

Now it was happening because a magic guy and Harvey were in a demented misunderstanding. He couldn’t expect people to guess that. 

They were still horrible, though. However, since Harvey was the new hot gossip in town, nobody hassled Theo at all, and that was great. Sabrina wasn’t in school today either, as she so often wasn’t, but she was texting Harvey regularly about her day the way she used to. Just looking at the texts made him smile. This was worth it, worth all the weirdness and magic and misunderstandings. 

Her texts were significantly more distressing than they used to be. Near the end of math class, he received a text that made him frown sharply at the screen. He couldn’t possibly be reading what Sabrina was saying correctly. Magic had got him confused again.

He almost tucked his phone away, but then he remembered what Theo had told him and bit his lip. You know how to be there for someone. Just do that.

“Theo, would you take my bag and shove it in my locker?” Harvey whispered, leaning across his desk. Theo knew his locker combo, because they were best friends. “I think I have to cut class and go to a weird magical bar.”

“Oh…” Theo said faintly. “Oh Harv, why would you have to do something like that?”

“Weird witch reasons,” Harvey mumbled, already half-way out the classroom door. “Very important.”

He was almost out of school when he met Ms Wardwell, half-mincing and half-striding down the halls. She was Sabrina’s favorite teacher, so she was Harvey’s as well, but he’d always figured they were both shy so they couldn’t really talk to each other. Only now Ms Wardwell wore emerald-colored sheath dresses and didn’t seem shy.

“Where are you off to, Mr Kinkle?” she asked languidly.

“Oh, uh,” said Harvey, and remembered she was a witch too. And helping Sabrina! “It’s a magic thing.”

Ms Wardwell blinked, which as a bit startling, like seeing a snake blink. “You provide aid with magical matters now?”

“Trying to,” said Harvey. “I wanna help. That’s all I want.”

She was silent.

“Does, uh,” said Harvey. “Does your, like, fiance know you’re a witch? Does he help you too? Does it work?”

“He doesn’t know anything,” replied Ms Wardwell. “Men seldom do.”

“Oh,” said Harvey. “Maybe you could tell him? It’s not my business—”

“It’s certainly not!”

“But from… personal experience,” said Harvey. “Better for him to know. And I’m sure… I’m sure he would love you just as much. Or more.”

Ms Wardwell’s lip uncurled, which wasn’t a smile but seemed more pleasant than her smiles. “Aren’t you a celestial little wild card. I’ll write you a hall pass.” 

“Oh, thanks, Ms Wardwell!”

Sabrina was right. She was great.

Harvey got in his truck and followed the instructions Sabrina had sent him on his request. Once he got to the club, he did the special knock Sabrina had texted him to do, and a pentagon-shaped hatch moved at eye level in the doorway. Chilly green eyes peered out at him.

“Oh,” said a guy’s voice, lofty and affected. “You must be Nick’s mortal.”

“… I guess,” said Harvey. “You’re Nick’s friend Dorian?”

“I’m friends with all beautiful people,” drawled Bartender Dorian, opening the door and leaning in the doorway in a manner that Harvey supposed was louche. “Amongst which I do not count you. Witch-hunters, so passe. I don’t find your mouth or your hands to be anything special.”

“Uh, why would they be?” asked Harvey. 

Dorian had a fancy waistcoat. 

“I admit you are tall, but that’s nothing to have a breakdown about,” Dorian continued.

It sounded to Harvey as though perhaps Sabrina had been talking about him? That was so nice. She said she’d missed him, in February, but then she’d hooked up with Nick right away so he’d figured she wasn’t missing him anymore.

On the whole, though, he agreed with Dorian. Though he didn’t like him. Harvey had extensive experience with mean and he could tell right away: Dorian was mean.

“Many people are tall,” concurred Harvey. “Sabrina’s known me for a long time and she maybe got attached out of habit.”

Dorian sighed and gestured him in. “I suppose they’ll wish to see you, though I cannot imagine why. At least the bar’s not officially open, so my clientele can’t judge me for letting you in.”

“Yep, thanks,” said Harvey.

The inside of the bar looked like Dorian. It was all pretty decadent. Harvey didn’t have a lot of experience with decadent, but he was fairly sure this was it. Sabrina was sitting at the bar with her legs jauntily crossed, drinking what Harvey hoped was a mocktail.

She was already the brightest thing in the bar, but she brightened further when she saw him, part of the dark witch world but so different. A diamond in a coal mine. “Hi Harvey! Sit down! Dorian, will you make Harvey a drink? These are delish, you will love them.”

“I don’t think I will,” said Harvey. “’Brina, I read your texts, and I must have got something wrong. Explain to me. Where is Nick?”

“He’s in the alleyway behind the bar going through the garbage,” said Sabrina cheerily. She gestured to the back door of the bar, which was painted black.

“He is what,” said Harvey, his voice flat.

“He’s searching for a dead mouse which will prove an invaluable witness to prove Ambrose was framed for murder,” said Sabrina.

Harvey filed that situation away under ‘weird witch stuff.’

“It’s good to clear Ambrose’s name,” Harvey clarified, “but why should Nick do that?”

Sabrina’s forehead scrunched up. “He wants to.”

“He wants to claw through the garbage on his own?”

“He wants to help me!” Sabrina stared at Harvey in confused betrayal. “He always wants to help me. He’s great that way. He teleported to the ocean and fought a giant squid for me.”

Right. Nick could help Sabrina in ways Harvey couldn’t. They were a team, and Nick belonged in her world, the way Harvey couldn’t. That was why Nick was the one.

But that couldn’t matter right now.

“Yeah, and maybe only Nick could teleport to the ocean to fight a giant squid…” oh, Harvey’s life that he had to utter these sentences… “but you could help him go through the trash, ’Brina.”

Uncertainty was beginning to creep onto Sabrina’s face, where it wasn’t comfortable. She was much more comfortable with indignation. “He volunteered!” 

“And you could have volunteered too,” said Harvey, then stormed out through the back door. “Nick?” he called out. “Nick?”

In the alleyway there were several iron dumpsters, with eldritch symbols carved on them. Nick’s head surfaced in one dumpster. His hair had gone tornado’d, and there was a bar napkin in it.

“Harry?” He smiled at the sight of him, which made Harvey quit being annoyed by being called the wrong name. “Hey, you came. Go inside and amuse Sabrina.”

“And leave you to search in the trash for a dead mouse, all by yourself?” asked Harvey. He received a mystified look from Nick, and sighed. “I’m not gonna do that.”

Nick’s mystified look intensified. Usually Harvey found Nick hard to read, but right now his face was open as one of his books, and said only: ‘a mortal is being difficult at me, but why?’ 

“You should not feel you have to do this,” Harvey tried to explain.

Nick shrugged. “If you’d die for somebody, going through trash isn’t much.”

A beautiful romantic sentiment, but Harvey wasn’t feeling it right now.

“Why would you die for somebody who’d let you go through the trash alone?” Harvey snapped.

Nick’s eyebrows went slanted and alarming. “Are you insulting Sabrina!” 

“No,” said Harvey. “I’m disagreeing with her.”

He understood, he thought. Sabrina was new to Nick, as tenderness was. If Sabrina had just come into Harvey’s life, he would have been knocked sideways and dazed too. He still was knocked sideways by her, even though he’d known her since he was six. But knowing her since she was six meant Harvey knew you had to stand up to Sabrina sometimes. She’d flatten you without even meaning to. Like the time she tried to go into the mines alone, without Harvey, and looked so surprised when he told her no. 

Nick studied him suspiciously. “Don’t oppress her.”

“Okay, I won’t! I’m not making her do anything,” Harvey said. “I told her what I thought of what she’s doing. Now she can do what she wants, and I’ll do what I want.”

“You should do what _she_ wants.”

Why, because that would make Sabrina love him? Was that what Nick believed, that you had to do everything someone wanted to win their love? Well, he was wrong. That didn’t work. Harvey had learned that long ago. He hadn’t tried to please his father in years. 

“I shouldn’t,” said Harvey. “And I won’t.”

Nick’s anger seemed to be ebbing into confused acceptance. Harvey wasn’t confused at all. It made sense, now. Nick would do anything to please Sabrina.

Even getting a boyfriend he didn’t actually like. How terrible for Nick, that he felt as if he had to do that.

“I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal of this. It’s not the first time I’ve gone through trash,” Nick grumbled, his voice factual as though what he was saying made sense. 

“Why would you go through trash?”

Was dumpster diving normal for witches? 

Nick shrugged. “When I was a child, running with the wolves. If we passed by a town and we were hungry…”

Harvey stood stricken. He wanted to go to Nick, but he also very much didn’t want to go to Nick, because Nick was in the trash. 

So, Harvey was here to help. He should do that.

He opened the lid on another dumpster, then gazed at the contents in horrified confusion.

“Was there a terrible bicycle accident?” 

Nick blinked. “What?” 

“Well… there are all these chains,” said Harvey. “And… blood…”

“Ah,” said Nick. “That would be the refuse from the sex demon dungeons.”

Harvey stared at the open dumpster before him.

“Oh,” Harvey said softly. “Oh no. Somebody’s gonna get witch hepatitis.”

It wasn’t gonna be Harvey. There were limits. He shut the lid on the sex demon dungeons dumpster, then selected a new dumpster. When he opened that, he saw garbage that looked normal enough, the sad remnants of lemons and limes, grit and ruined coasters. 

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina announced from the door, “and I’m going to help look for the mouse.”

She made a beeline for Nick’s dumpster, and climbed in. Harvey couldn’t see them, but he could hear them. 

“Harvey was right and I was wrong,” Sabrina said earnestly. 

“What are you saying, babe, that can’t be,” Nick murmured back, and rustling ensued. 

Usually, Harvey could now admit to himself, he was miserable when thinking about Sabrina and Nick kissing. Or doing more than that. He didn’t let himself dwell on it, but occasionally on the edge of dreaming he would remember the new normal with a lurch of horror— _Sabrina’s kissing Nick Scratch. No doubt, as the coolest boy in Invisible Academy, he is great at it. She’s wondering why she ever wasted so much time with me._

In a bizarre turn of events, Harvey was now aware Nick Scratch _was_ great at it. He wasn’t sure whether he should be more or less miserable knowing that, and thinking of Nick and Sabrina kissing in the trash. 

Kissing under these circumstances seemed so unsanitary. Maybe that shouldn’t have been what bothered Harvey most, but it was. 

“I found the dead mouse!” called out Nick.

Never had Harvey thought he would be so happy to hear those words.

“Oh thank God, we can all get out of the trash,” muttered Harvey.

“Yay, Nick!” said Sabrina, and there was another rustling sound that meant more kissing. In the trash. 

Witches were more like raccoons than Harvey would’ve guessed before today. 

Everybody scrambled out of the dumpsters. Sabrina had a cherry glowing red in her snow-white hair. There was a little paper umbrella stuck to the shoulder of Nick’s black jacket. Harvey wasn’t going to think about the trash that was on himself.

As they climbed out, Nick helped Sabrina in a gentlemanly fashion, but then let go of her hand: Sabrina reached back for his hand, catching it again and linking their fingers together. Only Harvey saw the flash of charmed surprise on Nick’s face. 

Sabrina smiled her smile that was just for Nick: a closed-mouth smile that seemed knowing, even though Harvey wasn’t sure Sabrina knew what she was smiling about. Nick caught it and his air of smugness magnified, but Harvey was pretty sure he was just happy. They made each other happy. 

Harvey couldn’t be against anything that made Sabrina happy. They were an eerie, lovely, unsettling witch couple who worked together. Even if they were covered in trash. And Harvey was happy for them. He really was. It was almost nice to watch them. They were something strangely close to sweet. 

Sabrina caught Harvey’s eye and came toward him. Nick came with her, because they were holding hands.

Harvey held a hand up.

“Uh,” he said. “If anyone comes near me with their trash selves, I’m gonna be super upset.”

Nick stopped moving, but Sabrina came forward another step as if that couldn’t possibly apply to her. 

“Sorry, ’Brina. I sincerely mean you too,” said Harvey. “Because everyone was in the garbage!”

“Witches paint each other with blood and milk and dead men’s water for spells, so I suppose we have a different attitude to sanitation,” Sabrina told him earnestly. She smiled at him, dark-lipped but her same sunny smile. “It’s nice to talk about this stuff with you.”

Harvey smiled back at her. “Yeah.”

Honesty was nice. The details might make Harvey throw up in his mouth, though.

Sabrina was emboldened by the smile to meander closer to him again.

“Seriously!” said Harvey. “No! You need to shower! Everybody needs to shower!”

Sabrina shrugged without much remorse. “Ah well. I should go take my witness to Aunt Hilda! Soon Ambrose’s name will be cleared and that problem will be fixed. Then we only have Satan to contend with.”

“Yay,” said Harvey, sarcastically. 

He was pleased to see Nick looked slightly worried as well. Nick smoothed his face deliberately as a fancy ironed shirt when Sabrina turned to him, though. He pushed a lock of brilliant white hair out of her face, and gave her a kiss. “Good luck, Spellman. Let me know if you need me for anything at all.”

Harvey waved at Sabrina firmly from a distance.

“Yep. Good luck with your mouse witness, stay away from me.”

She teleported away, in a whirl of dark miniskirt and pale hair, fading into an iridescent shimmer against the bricks. 

“That’s cool she can do that too,” said Harvey, approving. “Did you teach her?” 

Nick nodded proudly. “She caught on right away.”

Harvey grinned. “Very cool.” 

Nick’s face suggested he might be considering a meander closer of his own.

“I don’t think I could have been more clear,” said Harvey. “Away!”

“You mentioned showers just now,” said Nick, delicately. “What is a shower?”

Harvey blinked. “What?”

“Must be a mortal thing. Could you tell me about them? Or—show me--?”

“Uh huh,” said Harvey. “Except I’ve been in Sabrina’s house, and I’ve been in your Invisible Academy, and I’ve seen your bedroom and—more importantly—your bathroom. Which has a shower! I can’t believe you’re trying that ‘oh I’m just a poor innocent witch, I don’t know your mortal ways’ thing!”

He fully could believe it. He was surprised Nick, that huge liar, hadn’t tried it on before. He was also concentrating hard on being cross with Nick for attempting to pull something, so he wouldn’t have to think about what exactly Nick was trying for. Being annoyed at Nick was very familiar and soothing.

Oh, he had to talk to Sabrina about that open relationship idea sooner rather than later. Maybe he should’ve tried to bring it up in the weird magic bar, but Dorian had been there!

Dorian was mean, and even after Sabrina informed Nick about the open relationship Harvey didn’t think Nick should sleep with Dorian. Except that was none of Harvey’s business. 

Nick also looked annoyed at Harvey. Great, familiarity all around.

“Go home,” instructed Harvey. “To your shower!” 

Nick continued to look cross, but he generally obeyed when Harvey made it an order, and he did this time too. He was shrugging and making the gesture that meant teleportation when Harvey thought of Nick as a kid in the trash—searching for something to eat—and felt a pang of horror at the thought Nick was used to nobody being there for him, having to do every grim task on his own. 

“See you later tonight,” Harvey said, softer. 

Nick smirked at him, but it was one of the nicer, brighter smirks. “See you later, mortal.”

Then he was gone. 

\--

Harvey had a long shower, and used a lot of the cheap bright-blue shower gel until he didn’t smell like trash anymore, then got ready for bed. It had been a stressful day, so he wore the Nightmare on Elm Street top Sabrina had bought for him. The shirt was nice because it was a present from her, but it didn’t actually fit that well, so he only wore it when he was feeling strange or when he was missing her.

He sat at his desk and drew to calm himself and make sense of the world, and twilight drew in as though it was drawing with him. He drew Demonia, because she was cute and he missed her. Sabrina with a crown of thorns in her hair and eyes gone white, scary but awesome too because she was saving people.

He considered drawing Nick, but then he glanced up from the paper and saw Nick, studying either Harvey or his drawing. Nick looked distinctly pleased.

“Is this for me?” Nick asked, with an inquiring tilt of eyebrows.

“Oh, sure.” Harvey was flattered. “If you want it.”

“I do,” said Nick.

Harvey offered him the picture of Sabrina. Nick stared at it for a long moment, then accepted it, folding the paper up and putting it in his jacket. 

“What you did today was nonsensical and mortal,” said Nick, “but… thanks.”

“Oh.” Harvey smiled, startled. “That’s all right.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Um, dunno,” said Harvey. “Make slightly fewer scary witch comments?” 

Nick’s eyes were fever bright, too intense for the casual way he asked the question. 

“I mean it,” said Nick. “I understand what to do with Sabrina. Assist her with spells, save her family, help her achieve her full potential and give her a first taste of temptation until she chooses to feast. But I’m finding you hard to read in many ways. What should I do to—to keep—to be--”

“I don’t, um, understand what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t understand you,” said Nick.

“There’s, uh,” said Harvey. “There’s nothing much to understand? I’m only trying to help. I was thinking, once I’m gone, you shouldn’t let Sabrina—”

Nick’s eyebrows did the angry slant. “I will let her do whatever she wants! Can you stop talking about being gone, why are you like this, you will upset Sabrina!” 

“Well, Sabrina’s not here,” Harvey pointed out. “Anyway, she knows I’m going. We used to talk about it all the time.”

Nick looked shocked, which was weird of him. Did witches not have college?

“It’s normal for mortals?” Harvey offered. “Sabrina might miss me a little, I guess.”

“ _Stop_ ,” said Nick. “How are you like this? Nobody is like this. It should bother you. Witches want immortality, and power, and they don’t do things for anyone without expecting a return. So what are you doing?”

“I’m literally not doing anything.”

Nick made a frustrated gesture.

“You came to Dorian’s and I don’t know why, and you’re going to die and Sabrina will be destroyed, and—”

Whoa, why would Nick bring up dying? That was upsetting and morbid! 

Nick was continuing his rant, which didn’t hang together. “—and you offered to sleep with me every night, and you’re standing there wearing half a stupid shirt—”

“Yeah, it doesn’t fit, does it,” Harvey agreed. 

“Obviously, I don’t care what you’re wearing,” said Nick.

Harvey blinked. “Yeah, obviously, why would you?”

“At the parties I go to, almost nobody wears shirts! I only wore a shirt to the last party I went to because Sabrina seems to be into shirts!”

That was a reminder of everything Nick was willing to do for Sabrina—claw through garbage alone, date Harvey—and it made Harvey consider Nick with renewed sympathy. 

Nick had seemed all right when Harvey looked up to find him there, having teleported to the bedroom without permission as he liked to do. He’d seemed happy, almost. So something had gone wrong, in the five minutes Nick had been here, and nobody else was in the room. Somehow this was Harvey’s fault.

“Shirts could not possibly matter less to me,” said Nick. “I’ll take mine off right now. I don’t care.”

Harvey wanted to ask if Nick had been drinking, but Harvey could actually tell if people had been drinking, and Nick hadn’t. He had just gone demented, and was yanking off his jacket and his turtleneck. Yep, Nick was a shirtless maniac in Harvey’s bedroom. There were the abs again. It’d been three days since Harvey saw them last, which wasn’t very long at all.

“You didn’t bring pajamas with you, did you,” said Harvey.

“I don’t own any!”

“No? What do witches wear when they go to bed…”

Nick raised a significant eyebrow in answer. 

“Sabrina wears pjs,” Harvey murmured, distressed. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen them, they’re cute,” said Nick. “Never seen anything like them in the Academy, though. The first day I was in the Academy, the first person I spoke to tried to sleep with me. Almost everybody I met tried to sleep with me, and that was—”

“Scary?” suggested Harvey.

“No!” Nick snapped, as though Harvey had got everything catastrophically wrong and was even more stupid than Nick had previously supposed. “The opposite. It let me know they wanted to keep me around, and I wanted to stay. It’s the easiest way to win someone over. Having them want to makes all the other ways of winning them over easier, too.”

The idea of a bunch of people wanting to use you for sex being reassuring was so alien Harvey couldn’t even respond to it. He could only stare at Nick in confused concern, because there was pain there along with the alarming trio of sex talk and shirtlessness and furiously narrowed eyes. That was what was important.

“Why is everything so weird with you?” Nick demanded. “I don’t know what to do, and I keep telling you the truth, and that’s a disaster. Do you—do you even like me?”

“Of course I do,” Harvey said, finally knowing how to respond. 

Everything else was impossible, but he’d promised himself to be there for Nick. He moved forward, past his drawing desk, and Nick drew in toward him. Harvey took hold of Nick’s arm. 

It was intimidating, being close to Nick when he wasn’t rendered absent-minded by reading, or vulnerable by nightmares or angels, when it was just Harvey and this strange magic boy who was everything Harvey would never be. Until the witches, Harvey didn’t think he’d ever received a truly sharp look, but Nick’s furious focused attention felt like the edge of a blade held close to the skin.

Only there was the pain, too. 

“Nick,” Harvey repeated, steadily. “Of course I do.”

It seemed to soothe Nick slightly, smooth away some of the edge, in the way praise and firmness often worked with Nick. There was still a lot of edge left, though.

“I—understand that you’re shy.” Nick’s tone suggested that he didn’t understand being shy at all. “But—do mortals always—are you ever going to kiss me back?”

Ah. So Nick had noticed that, had he? Yeah, it made sense he would.

In the morning Harvey would talk to Sabrina about getting Nick an open relationship! He’d do it first thing! Only Nick was here now, and he had to spend the night, because of Satan.

This wasn’t fair, Harvey thought. If Nick had asked for celestial sexual favors, Harvey would’ve felt fine shutting him down hard. Except… if Nick believed Harvey had agreed to date him, a kiss seemed a pretty reasonable request. Harvey’s behavior, viewed in that light, was bizarre and hurtful.

It still wasn’t fair. Nick didn’t like him that way! He’d said so! Why would he expect Harvey to like him that way?

Only for the witches, sex and romance were totally different. Romance was the forbidden unfamiliar ground. Whereas… the other… was normal and reassuring to Nick, was where he believed much of his value came from. Which was—awful, and sad. There was a lot more to Nick than that. But if Nick didn’t realize that, and wouldn’t believe it, then… they were back to Harvey hurting him.

Harvey formulated the words in his mind. The thing is, I never intended any of this to happen. I figured Sabrina would say no to your suggestion, because she didn’t love me. 

He couldn’t say that! Nick wasn’t sure Sabrina loved _him_. Nick needed to be reassured Sabrina did, and only Sabrina could do that. And she would, Harvey was sure she would.

In the morning.

Only now it was night, and Harvey wanted Nick to be all right. It wasn’t as though he found it unpleasant, touching Nick.

Harvey cleared his throat. “I can… Yeah. I can do that.”

“Yes?” A gleam of satisfaction touched Nick’s voice, lit a spark in Nick’s dark eye. The gleam reminded Harvey of a blade, too. None of this felt safe.

Harvey whispered it, barely louder than breath. “Yes.”

Nick leaned up, careful and deliberate by moonlight in the darkest part of the night, and kissed the _yes_ out of Harvey’s open mouth. His hands grasped Harvey’s shoulders. The idea of Harvey putting his hands absolutely anywhere on Nick was panic-inducing, but he could lean forward, into the kiss.

Nick’s mouth was surprisingly soft and unsurprisingly clever, like the way he talked. Convincing and caressing over unexpected words, asking in a way meant to get the answer he wanted. _Kiss me back._

Harvey did, gently. Perhaps it wasn’t so strange that Nick’s mouth was soft, in the same inviting way Nick’s hair was. It was all an invitation, soft, soft—and then there was that edge.

Harvey gave an involuntary little shiver, which became a start backward. But he didn’t go far. Nick’s lashes were lowered, but under the dark screening crescents his eyes were still glittering, avid.

“Touch me,” he said. Harvey was about to say no, when Nick added, “Please.”

Oh, God. Okay. Harvey could do that.

It was just, Harvey didn’t have the slightest idea how to do that? How to touch a boy. How to touch a magic boy, used to consummately skilful touches from a hundred other magic people. How to touch literally anyone who wasn’t Sabrina.

He’d only _touch_ -touched Sabrina once, reaching out with trembling hands in the woods when she shed her clothes and asked him to search her for a witch mark. He wasn’t even sure that counted!

It would have to count. It was all Harvey knew how to do. But Nick was a witch, too. He had a witch mark, too. Harvey could just—do what he’d done before.

So he did. In the dark silence of his bedroom, rather than to the sound of the wind rushing through the trees. With someone very different, and far stranger to him. Harvey’s hands were trembling this time, too.

The art teacher, in the class where they’d drawn people with no clothes, had said to turn off a certain kind of appreciation so the models could be comfortable. That had been easy. Turning the appreciation back around must be possible.

It wasn’t that the appreciation wasn’t there. As soon as Harvey laid eyes on Nick, he’d noticed he was astonishingly handsome. At the time it was a disaster, Nick was a disaster like a meteor crashing into Harvey’s world, because Sabrina was never going to be satisfied with Harvey again. 

Only Nick wasn’t a disaster. That wasn’t how anyone should think about him. Harvey had tried very hard to be careful when he touched Sabrina, not only because he didn’t want to scare her, but because… it was important she knew how important she was. Infinitely precious, and to be kept safe at all costs.

That was the way to touch somebody, Harvey thought with a certainty like instinct. Gently, and with reverence.

He ran his palms from Nick’s wrists up to his shoulders, the dips and lines of muscle, the inside of his elbows and the swell of biceps, with serious attention. Then, by touch rather than by sight, the nape of his neck. Harvey smoothed his hands down along Nick’s back, and up again, as though soothing him after a nightmare again, but it was different now, with Nick’s eyes open and his breaths coming short. 

Harvey couldn’t see or feel a witch mark, only miles of smooth olive skin. 

The sudden tremor surprised Harvey, because he thought he’d stopped trembling. Then Harvey realized it was Nick. 

Oh no, this probably wasn’t how witches touched each other at all.

Harvey’s hands dropped to his sides.

“Was that—was that okay?” Harvey bit his lip. “Did I get it wrong?”

Nick said, in a hoarse voice, “Come here. Get it wrong again.” 

Nick lunged at him, one hand fisting in Harvey’s shirt that Nick didn’t like, and kissed him in a different way than before. His mouth wasn’t coaxing anymore, but demanding. _Put your hands back on me_ , Nick had snarled at him on a stone altar, and now Nick’s body was saying the same thing.

Harvey put his hands hesitantly back onto the carved muscle of Nick’s arms. Nick’s mouth was open under his, hungry, hot in a way that reminded Harvey of Nick’s candle-flame look last night. A witch boy, who knew precisely what he was doing, and how to burn. Nick licked the bitten place on Harvey's mouth. The candle flame seemed to catch the night, burning time. 

A moment went up in flame and was lost, ending somehow with Harvey’s hands tangled in Nick’s soft curls. Nick had let go of Harvey’s shirt, and his hands were slipping beneath it, tracing the muscles of his stomach and then down the line of hair there. Harvey felt the curve of Nick’s smirk against his mouth. _Such_ a wicked witch.

“Hey,” Harvey told Nick off. “Be good.”

His hands were in Nick’s hair, so when he made a gesture for emphasis, he ended up pulling Nick’s hair for emphasis. Nick moaned into Harvey’s mouth, shocking and thrilling.

“I don’t want to, farm boy,” Nick whispered. “You’ll have to make me.”

He’d leaned back slightly to whisper, but he instantly moved back in, chasing the kiss before it was gone. He pressed up against Harvey, they were pressed up against each other, and Nick was … Harvey could tell…

Why was it, Harvey thought in a sudden burst of clarity, that every single decision he made seemed to spin him further out into chaos?

They should stop this at once. They should go to sleep.

“Wait,” murmured Harvey, “Bed.”

Then he stopped dead, in order to deal with the crashing realization he’d once again said the worst thing he could possibly have said.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herald of Hell, the Virgin Sacrifice of Greendale, and the guy trying to date both of them!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update when I should have been working is 100% to blame on Mononoke_Hime, who with fallen-angelic kindness wrote me gloriously long comments per chapter because I said they inspired me and thus satanically inspired an irresistible whirlwind of creativity! I also wished to shout out Helene K/Hekiv, for suggesting Tommy's sweater.

“Uh…” said Harvey, in terror. “Uh… Bed… For sleeping! That’s what beds are for.”

Nick laughed up at him, usually-shuttered face bright like someone had thrown open the shutters and the house was astonishingly lit up in every window. The laugh wasn’t mean. 

“That is to say…” said Harvey. “I know beds have many uses. Some. Several. I am aware of that.”

“Farm boy,” murmured Nick. “Relax. I understand.”

He’d taken his hands off Harvey’s skin when Harvey said _wait_ , but he hadn’t taken his hands away. They’d gone to the front of Harvey’s shirt, holding onto the white numbers emblazoned across the blue material, hands in loose fists but tight enough to cling. Actually, though Harvey didn’t want to seem ungrateful for Sabrina’s present, as well as not fitting, Harvey’s shirt showed a lot of his stomach. He hoped nobody else had noticed that. 

“I’m not asking for anything else. I don’t want to mess this up,” Nick continued.

“Mess what up?” 

Nick only shook his head, hair tumbling everywhere. The curls had gone wild, because Harvey had been running his fingers through Nick’s hair. Which was fine, Harvey told himself, where else could he have put his hands? Nowhere seemed safe.

Was it fine, though? Nick liked his hair to be tidy.

Harvey reached out, without considering properly, and tucked Nick’s hair behind his ear, then tried to fix the damage he’d done, hand careful as he could be. Nick glanced up at him, a startled little look cast from beneath his eyelashes. Then he leaned his face into Harvey’s palm, nuzzling, eyes falling closed. 

He must be like this with everyone: Harvey had to remind himself of that.

“Doesn’t matter,” Nick said softly, answering when Harvey had basically forgotten the question. “It’s fine. It’s all fine now. You had me worried for a minute there, farm boy.”

Two ‘farm boys’ this close together: Nick was in a very good mood, then. Harvey was pleased about that, if puzzled. Like, Nick had made out with people before, clearly. Many people. Though he supposed it'd been a while since the multiple people makeouts, by witch standards.

“Don’t be worried?” Harvey offered. 

He wasn’t sure of much, but he was sure of that. It would be better if Nick was happy. 

“I won’t anymore,” Nick promised. “Come back. Be close.”

He drew Harvey in by his two-handed grip on Harvey’s shirt, but gradually. He was giving Harvey the chance to move away. 

Harvey didn’t. Nick turned up his face, curving his palm against the back of Harvey’s neck and coaxing Harvey’s head down until their lips met again. Nick wasn’t as tall as Harvey, so it made no sense that he was intimidating, but he was. Very. There was the crackling aura of dark magic and the swagger and the always-curling mouth which seemed like it was continually making fun of him. 

Right now, with that curling mouth on his, Nick probably wasn’t making fun of him. But maybe. Harvey’s senses were all haywire with nerves, but the edgy feeling was almost thrilling at the same time. Nick’s kiss was coaxing and challenging at once, and when Harvey dipped his head down to be closer Nick surged up against him, so they stumbled backward against the window frame. 

Harvey had actually kissed at this angle before, because Nick and Roz were about the same height. He took hold of Nick’s arms again to push Nick up along the window frame a little, so the kiss could go deeper. Nick mumbled, more noise than word, something that almost sounded like, “Tall,” which made no sense. Maybe it was ‘All?’ Did that make more sense? Nick’s arm hooked around his neck, very different from a girl’s arm, locking them together. His mouth was hot and hungry, open against Harvey’s without any hesitation. When Nick pressed himself up against Harvey, once again Harvey was reminded Nick was strong, muscle and sinew coming together in one slow sinuous ripple of motion. The slight fizz of nerves became the burn of a thrill, followed by a burst of panic. Harvey jerked back.

“This isn’t… this isn’t bed!” Harvey pointed out.

“All right,” Nick said obediently, with a wicked trace of a smirk in it. “Bed it is.”

He gestured lazily to himself, and suddenly he was wearing black silk pajama pants and nothing else.

“So, um,” said Harvey, as Nick turned and slid onto the bed with a total lack of self-consciousness. “Mortals wear more to bed than witches do.”

“I know. You’re welcome,” Nick told him, looking smug. 

It took a moment for Harvey to work through the horrific realization that Nick believed he was already wearing extensive clothing to bed, and was being praised for his consideration. Were pants optional for witches? Harvey didn’t feel pants should be optional.

Since he was grateful Nick had opted for pants, he didn’t make any further objections. He awkwardly circled to the other side of the bed, and climbed in, staying at the edge. 

All through Harvey’s life, there had been his father and his father’s friends, talking about sex as though it was something women used to trap you and something they also cruelly withheld, though Harvey didn’t know how anything could be both. Tommy’s friends had talked about scoring, as if girls were a game you could win. Tommy hadn’t talked like that about his girl, but he’d stayed silent. 

The people who’d chosen him, his friends… he’d believed for most of his life that they were all girls. They didn’t talk to him about sex often, it was a topic to be giggled about in the bathroom, but he knew his friends weren’t traps or rewards, that they weren’t things. He didn’t want to look at them that way, or think about sex that way. 

He’d always known he wanted Sabrina forever, and he wanted her to choose—whatever she wanted, with him. It wasn’t waiting, because he didn’t want anything, unless she wanted it too.

This situation was different from any he’d ever imagined, but one thing that was fairly clear was Nick didn’t have any of the attitudes to sex that mortals learned, wouldn’t understand concepts like ‘taking advantage’. Harvey was completely at sea.

Nick had one arm propped up on the pillow and hadn’t pulled up the blankets past his waist. He looked more at ease in a strange bed than Harvey was in his own bed. 

Someone… attractive was in his bed, laid out like an offering. If he wanted, something could happen. 

Nick was watching him, with dark interest under hooded lids. 

“To be clear,” murmured Nick. “I’m not asking for anything, but you can ask me for anything at all.”

“Great, I will,” said Harvey, crushing down panic. “Please get some sleep.”

A flicker of unease crossed Nick’s face, when he’d seemed totally at ease lounging in someone else’s bed asking them to ask him for… stuff. Harvey supposed witches didn’t have naptime, or a brother to tuck them in when they were small, or many opportunities for peace. 

“You need sleep,” Harvey continued. “You can’t have been getting much rest. You must be so tired.”

“I enchant away the dark circles. What about you?” Nick asked.

Harvey blinked, and Nick reached out across the mattress space between them and ran a thumb, careful, along the line above Harvey’s cheekbone.

“There are always shadows under your eyes,” Nick said. “Ever since this winter.”

Nick was right, Harvey knew. These days, when he looked in a mirror, he didn’t just see untidy hair and worried eyes. He saw someone haunted. 

They both knew why.

“You met me this winter,” Harvey pointed out instead.

Nick said, “I saw you in summer once.” 

“Oh?” asked Harvey, vaguely startled, but Nick said nothing more.

He guessed Greendale was small enough so that people might sometimes run into each other. The other boys at Baxter High had bragged about encounters with girls who, now Harvey looked back on it, were clearly Dorcas and Agatha. Harvey was surprised he didn’t remember seeing Nick.

“Sure, you’re right,” Harvey said at last, when it was clear Nick wouldn’t continue. “We could both use some sleep.”

There was a silence, and Nick didn’t move, a look on his face as though he was trying to work something out. Like he couldn’t just lie back on the pillow as an ordinary person might. Nick was confident in the weirdest situations, and uncertain in the most normal ones. 

Nick had said that the dreams from Satan went away if Harvey touched him, so Harvey did, leaning across the space between them to catch Nick in the crook of his arm. He wouldn’t let go of him then, even in slumber. Nick would be safe. 

“So sleep,” Harvey said firmly, running his palm up along Nick’s back.

It was a bit different when Nick was shirtless, skin warm and smooth under Harvey’s palm, but Nick sighed and tucked his face into Harvey’s throat, and settled in, exactly the way he had last night. 

In the end, Nick didn’t have a nightmare. Harvey did.

Like all his nightmares since he lost his brother, it was of Tommy. He was in the mines and his brother was calling for him, asking Harvey why he’d left him down there when it was so cold. Why he’d let this happen to his big kind brother, when it was always meant to be Harvey.

He woke himself up with a shiver so hard it turned into a jolt. He never made a sound during bad dreams. Even his subconscious knew he shouldn’t alert his father, or anything else he was afraid of. He was glad for that now, when he didn’t want to wake Nick, who needed his sleep. He pulled the blanket over his head and hoped for better dreams. 

The movement must have disturbed Nick, who asked mildly, after a pause: “Why are our heads under the blanket?” 

“Mortals put their heads under the blankets sometimes. Usually when they’re kids,” Harvey admitted.

“Why?” 

“In case a bad thing comes to get us!”

Nick’s voice was amused in the dark. “I’m not certain your strategy is effective. There’s a wicked witch under here with you.”

“That’s totally different!” Harvey said sternly. “You’re not a bad thing. Now, back to sleep.” 

There was quiet after Harvey said that. Harvey assumed Nick had gone back to sleep as directed, and he was drifting off himself when he felt someone tuck back his hair, in the same gesture he’d shown Nick earlier. 

It was so tentative and whisper-soft it must have been a dream, both the touch and Nick’s voice as he murmured, “Little mortal love.” 

\--

Harvey had to get up early the next morning, to go down to the mines. He got dressed in the bathroom, but had to come back for his schoolbag and his jacket. Moving cautiously in the dark, he hit the wardrobe door, and a stirring ensued from the bed. 

The bedcovers almost defeated Invisible Academy’s most promising student of the dark arts, but he fought his way through valiantly. 

“Hey, Nick,” Harvey said, quiet. 

“Morning, beautiful,” said Nick, clearly speaking on autopilot, then blinked and stared around in blurry dismay. “Except it’s still night.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I have to go to work.”

“In the middle of the night?” 

“It’s five thirty in the morning.”

“Like I said!” 

“I have a morning shift in the mines,” Harvey said. “My dad kept asking. He said no pressure. But… he kept asking, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. I’m not scared of the mines anymore, so it’s fine.”

Used to be, when his dad forced him down the mines, Tommy would step in, and that one time Sabrina comforted him when he had a panic attack. But Harvey figured they were gone now. With nobody left to comfort him, he couldn’t be scared any longer.

Once he’d wanted to work at Dr Cerberus’s, to learn more about books and draw art for the walls, but his father had said a furious no. Even though Harvey told himself that he and his father were doing better, he knew he still wouldn’t be allowed take that job. He and his dad were doing better, not just because his dad had stopped drinking, but because Harvey had stopped hoping. 

His father treated him more gently these days, but Harvey wasn’t the son he wanted. He never had been, and he never would be. Harvey had to be careful not to remind his father of that too often.

So, down to the mines.

Harvey realized he was leaning against the wardrobe door, staring at his own hands as he twisted them together. He transferred his gaze to Nick, which was much better.

“Is it fine?” Nick asked, in a voice with an edge to it, like he was angry.

“Yeah,” Harvey told him. “Go back to sleep.” 

Nick didn’t go back to sleep. He stayed wakeful and watchful, as though waiting for something else. Harvey approached the bed.

“Will I make you a coffee before I go?”

He realized what Nick had been waiting for when he drew close enough to be within grabbing distance, and Nick reeled him in. He got hold of the sheepskin collar of Harvey’s jacket, tugging him back down toward the bed and kissing him again. 

It was dark and warm, Nick laid out underneath him among the tumbled blankets, being pulled back into a witch’s night when he was dreading the cold early morning and the mines. Since Harvey was fully dressed for the day and mortal work, it seemed slightly less dangerous to relax into a kiss, though he was worried the battered brown leather of his jacket might be rough against Nick’s bare skin. 

“Wow, no to coffee, huh?” Harvey smiled, and kissed the corner of Nick’s mouth where it curled. Nick tipped his head back against the pillows and made a low, rich sound of encouragement.

Still dangerous, after all. 

“Don’t go,” Nick murmured. “Stay.”

Harvey fled. 

\--

His dad oddly wasn’t there in the mines. He must have switched shifts to spend time with that poor woman, but his dad’s friend Stan always kept an eye on Harvey when Harvey was working and his dad wasn’t.

That was probably nice of Stan, but Harvey still didn’t like any of his father's work friends who met in the bars, and never had. It was even tougher to tolerate Stan in the dark, somehow airless air of the mines, with Stan defying safety regulations with a radio blaring country music from the speakers. 

“You were always trailing after that Spellman girl with pathetic hearts in your eyes, right?” Stan asked, between pickaxe strokes.

“Still am,” said Harvey honestly.

Stan clicked his tongue against his teeth, giving Harvey a look that was a tenth sympathy but nine-tenths casually cruel amusement. “Saw her with her new guy the other day. Good-looking kid.”

“Yeah,” said Harvey. That was a fact.

“Seemed well off, too,” observed Stan. “Flashy type. Exactly what girls like. She’s crazy about him, I guess.”

“Yeah,” said Harvey. More facts.

He understood what was going on. Stan was trying to make Harvey feel lousy about the fact Nick was way better than Harvey, that Sabrina liked Nick more and had traded up so far it was as if she was now doing business in space. Harvey already thought about that, and felt lousy about it, a lot. Stan’s bringing it up didn’t make much difference either way. It just made Harvey feel a little more tired and sad, and he was plenty tired and sad already. So basically it made no difference.

“Slick, rich, and a looker,” said Stan. “Jesus. Sorry, kid.”

Harvey frowned. Maybe it made some difference, after all.

“Wow, there’s a lot more to Nick than that. He’s on track to graduate top of his year, as well,” Harvey said, proudly. “He’s good at everything he does.”

Stan gave him the same look as his dad had when he interrupted Harvey’s glowing play-by-play description of Theo’s basketball triumph and snapped, “But how did _you_ play, Harv?”

Harvey had played fine. Whatever. That wasn’t the interesting and important thing! 

“That’s real philosophical of you, Harv,” said Stan now. “Bet he’s giving it to your girl real good, too.”

Harvey threw Stan up against the wall. Stan was taller than his dad, so he’d always thought of Stan as super tall and intimidating. But sometime over the last few months when he was too bewildered with grief to notice, Harvey had got taller than Stan as well.

“That is none of your business,” Harvey said between his teeth. “It’s none of my busi—”

He stopped as he thought that one over, feeling slightly frantic. Was it his business? No, surely not. Only he was currently making out with both of them. 

“Hoping he’ll dump her after he gets what he wants, so you can scoop up his leavings? You might be onto something. Guy like that, he’d be hittin’ it and quittin’ it all over town.” 

“I—he wouldn’t do that to Sabrina,” said Harvey. “Keep your mouth off both of them.”

He gave Stan a final shove before he shouldered his pickaxe and tried not to have any thoughts at all.

Stan’s radio blared, “You can’t get it back when you give yourself away! A boy’s gonna run, but a real man’s gonna stay. Girl, make him wait.”

Harvey gave the radio a horrified and betrayed look. 

“I’m just gonna… I’m gonna go look into Tunnel 13,” he said hurriedly, and darted away. Tunnel 13 was the forbidden tunnel where nobody went! He would be safe there.

He had barely ventured into the dark tunnel when he saw a flicker of white in the darkness.

Harvey reproached himself extensively for acting like a character in a horror movie. Tunnel 13, really, what had he been thinking! Oh no, oh God, he was pretty sure there were demons in the mines.

Wow, demons in the mines. The hits kept coming. 

He should probably tell someone about this. 

\--

He and Sabrina were getting used to meeting up in the library, on the couch where they had been irresistibly drawn together and kissed in February, when they were meant to be broken up and rehearsing for a school play. Now she was in his lap again, kicking her high-heeled Mary Janes and smiling as though she was supremely pleased with herself.

She finished informing him of her suspicions about an enchantment being laid on her Aunt Zelda.

“What makes you think that?” Harvey asked.

“Harvey, she’s wearing pastels!”

Harvey reviewed everything he’d ever known about Zelda Spellman. “Yeah, must be an enchantment.”

“I’m glad you agree!” Sabrina added: “What’s been happening in the mortal world?”

Harvey didn’t want to talk about demons, or about anything scary, for a minute. Not when he got to have his arm around Sabrina’s waist, and rest.

“Nothing much,” he murmured into her shoulder, smiling against the dark blue of her clinging sweater. “What else is new with you?”

“Well! You know how I believe my power came to me so I could unite witches and mortals,” Sabrina said happily. “I intend to have a party so I can spread my father’s word about that union! As soon as Roz gets back, I’m going to arrange it.”

Roz was the only one of their friends group normal enough to guarantee a crowd when she invited people, as she had at Halloween on Sabrina’s birthday. 

“I thought I’d get Roz to ask the church kids,” continued Sabrina.

Harvey didn’t know if the church kids and the witch kids were a great intuitive match, but he admired Sabrina’s ambition. He murmured encouragement.

Sabrina touched the collar of his shirt as she used to, with as much ease as she used to brush her own hair back.

“Aunt Hilda and Ambrose looked a little scared because I can control the weather now,” she confided. “And you—you were scared of me before. If all this power is for something good, then I’m happy to have it. I can prove nobody needs to be scared. You’re not scared anymore, are you?”

Harvey looked at her in the spring light she’d created, streaming through the library windows washed clean by yesterday’s rain. Her hair was bright as snow under the springtime sun, and there was a world of hope and determination in her small face. 

She was all the magic he’d ever asked for in his life. 

He cradled her face in his hands.

“I’m scared,” he said. “You’re so beautiful, it’s scary. You’re so amazing, it terrifies me.”

He leaned in and kissed her mouth, painted dark but soft as it had ever been on their first real kiss by the blooming roses. Light brimmed behind his eyelids. She slid an arm eagerly around his neck and pressed herself against him, her whole body soft and strong.

“Harvey,” Sabrina murmured. “We could skip—”

Having someone press their body against his made Harvey remember they were meant to be having an important conversation.

“’Brina,” he said hastily, before he could lose his nerve. “We need to talk about Nick.”

His voice came out more solemn than he’d intended. Sabrina had one arm looped around his neck, but now she reached out with her free hand and laced his fingers with hers. Harvey felt the press of bone beneath flesh and glanced over at Sabrina, with a flash of reflected cold because he realized she was scared. He didn’t understand why she would be. 

“Whatever he did, I’ll fix it,” Sabrina said, in a tiny voice. “Don’t leave me again.”

“Oh God! ’Brina!” Harvey kissed her hair, the brightest locks where they shone like snow in spring. “No. I won’t. I love you. I don’t ever want to leave you again.” 

He would, but he didn’t want to.

She let go of his hand so she could cling onto the front of his flannel shirt, a gesture that seemed faintly familiar to Harvey though he wasn’t sure why.

“Nick is great, he did nothing wrong, I really like him,” Harvey assured her. “It’s just, I know he’s… to quote him and the horrifying stuff he constantly says… down with sharing to please you, but obviously witches do things differently and… with many people. Which is sort of the problem.” 

“Monogamy’s very new to Nick,” Sabrina said. “Oh! But we’re not being that anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to talk about, Sabrina?” 

He watched as Sabrina visibly worked out Harvey’s incoherent words. She had practise with that. She could do it, when she concentrated.

“Oh! Because… Do you two… make out?” Sabrina sounded extremely curious. 

“Uh,” said Harvey, in a small voice. “Yes?”

Sabrina patted his shoulder multiple times. “Of course! Of course you should, I just—I didn’t—this is all as new to me as you, Harvey.”

She’d been raised by Zelda Spellman, who apparently entertained demons. This couldn’t be as strange to Sabrina as it was to him. But it was nice that it was a little strange to her, too. He didn’t mind, if they were in it together. Harvey put his head down on her shoulder again and nodded. 

Then he lifted his head and braced his shoulders. “I just think Nick might have some expectations here. He’s uh, into many things. Which I don’t judge.”

“I know!” said Sabrina. “It’s a little intimidating. Prudence once said he was hornier than a toad, and Prudence had an orgy for dessert after her last supper!”

“Prudence is so mean,” said Harvey. “But also cool, and maybe right about everything.”

Sabrina’s brow smoothed out.

“It’s OK, I already fixed this problem. I told him not to talk to the Weird Sisters anymore, and he said he wouldn’t. I know he had to, when the angels came, but I’m sure he’ll steer clear again now.”

She nodded happily. Harvey stared.

“You told him what!”

“Well, Harvey, he used to date all three of them,” said Sabrina. “He had an orgy with them and Ambrose and Luke in November.” 

“I’m, uh, very aware.”

It was a lot, but he was trying to cope. This was something he couldn’t cope with. 

“You still can’t tell someone not to talk to their friends,” Harvey said. “I’m gonna talk to Theo and Roz, no matter what you say. And I used to date Roz.”

There was a brief moment there, where they looked unhappily at each other. Sabrina had always said she was fine with Harvey dating Roz. She must be unhappy about Nick.

“It’s not the same,” Sabrina argued, at last.

Maybe it felt different, because she liked Nick more. That didn’t make it right.

“Who would you say Nick is closest to, at the Academy, besides you?” Harvey asked, and searched helplessly for a way to express what he felt. “Prudence calls him Nicky, sometimes,” he added.

Special names meant something, meant people specially mattered. Harvey said '’Brina', and 'Rosalind', and 'Tommy,' and he used to say 'Sooz.' Nick didn’t have a lot of that in his life. He should be able to keep Prudence. 

Sabrina closed her eyes. “Okay, Harvey. I get it. I’ll take it back.” 

Harvey nodded thankful acknowledgement, dropping a kiss on each of her tender eyelids until she opened her eyes and smiled. 

“While you’re talking to him, there’s something else. So in November, he had a—an—” 

“Orgy,” Sabrina supplied. 

“Yes, thank you, ’Brina, what you said. It’s March,” said Harvey. “The new year has clearly been missing a lot of the, uh, action Nick’s accustomed to, and I have the impression...” He thought of the way Nick had looked last night, all lit up. “I have the _strong_ impression he’s been missing it. Which he wouldn’t suggest to you since he loves you and would never want to pressure you, but…”

Dark suspicion appeared to be gathering in Sabrina’s eyes.

“Oooh, I knew it! He flirts with everyone. I was sure he’d flirted with you when he went to protect you from the ghosts!”

“Uh, no, nope, he didn’t—he’s never--”

Sabrina was not listening. “You shouldn’t do anything you feel uncomfortable with, Harvey!” 

Sabrina’s voice was firm. But then, it usually was. 

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable,” said Harvey. “It’s just… It’s important that you and Nick are happy.” 

“Oh… sure.”

She actually looked surprised at the mere idea Nick might not be happy. Because Nick—who for all he was so smart was sometimes a total idiot—had convinced Sabrina that he was always okay. Someone had to watch out for Nick. 

“And it’s important that you be happy, too,” Sabrina pointed out. 

Her tone reminded him of how she used to argue with the nurse at the infirmary about his panic attacks. She was so goal-oriented she only saw the shine of what she was aiming for, but at the same time she was so good, and so earnest. She’d always looked out for him. 

“I love you, ’Brina,” said Harvey, and meant it with all his heart. “It makes me happy to be with you. And I know Nick wants you to be happy, and that’s why he asked me to be with you.”

Sabrina glowed at him. “He’s so great. And I’m so happy too, Harvey.”

Harvey smiled tentatively back at her, hardly daring to believe he could have this now. This was beautiful and it had been lost, and now it wasn’t his to keep.

“I think you should talk to Nick. Tell him that since he wants you to be happy, and have—a little comfort with me—then you want to be fair. You want him to be happy, and so he should have what he wants, too. Um, which I really think is the opportunity to have… witch debauches with Dorian or whoever.”

“Dorian!” Sabrina seemed thunderstruck. “Do you think…?”

“Yeah… the guy with the fancy waistcoats who runs the fancy gay bar and who’s super close to Nick?” Harvey asked. “I do think. Unless those are, like, harmful stereotypes!”

She gave him a kiss, so he hoped they weren’t harmful stereotypes. It was just a light peck, but it was reassuring as a hug, being wrapped in her love and approval as though it was her arms. 

“You have given me a lot to think about. I will talk to Nick,” Sabrina promised.

“Hold his hand while you talk to him,” advised Harvey. “He likes that.”

Sabrina’s smile was radiant, and her small hand creeping back into Harvey’s was warm. “I will.”

That talk had gone so well, he didn’t want to spoil the mood by mentioning demons.

The bell rang, and she climbed off Harvey’s lap, and they went into the hallway holding hands. The early spring sunlight was bright on the raven symbol on their floor, and caught gold in the springy natural curls of a girl standing near the raven with her back to them.

“Roz!” Sabrina trilled, and she left Harvey’s side to zoom down the locker-lined passage.

Roz spun around, and opened her arms wide to receive Sabrina.

This was something Harvey had already known, and always understood. They were best friends. Roz wasn’t going to discard Sabrina. Roz loved Sabrina more than she loved him. And Sabrina had just healed Roz’s eyes. 

If she was going to be hurt or mad about their new situation, Roz wouldn’t blame Sabrina.

Harvey withdrew.

\--

By their afternoon classes, everyone was talking about the wild party Sabrina Spellman was throwing, and her new super hot private school boyfriend and his friends who would be in attendance. Theo and Harvey were both asked for invites, and said dutifully that everyone was welcome. They negotiated the hallways carefully. It was weird to be popular, even for ten minutes. 

“Theo,” confided Harvey. “I’m not gonna go to the party tonight.”

“Are you afraid Roz will kill you?” asked Theo.

“I’m afraid Roz will be hurt,” said Harvey, softly.

Theo’s shoulders slumped under his schoolbag straps. Theo understood that would be much worse.

“But… it’s not just Roz,” said Harvey. 

He loved Roz. She was and would always be one of the most important people in his life. But she’d thrown him away. He wasn’t directly responsible for her happiness, the way he had been before.

“There’s Sabrina and Nick,” Harvey went on.

Theo made a complicated face at him. “Is there really?”

“They should go to the party together,” said Harvey. “Like how they were at the sweethearts dance. How they are at the Academy. Nick should get to know Roz. They should, like… debut as a couple for the mortals, without any… complications that aren’t going to last. They’re endgame. I believe that.”

Theo stopped dead, and Harvey thought he’d said something wrong until he realized Theo had stopped by his locker.

“Who says that?” asked Theo, shoving books into his locker with a clang against the side, so maybe something was wrong after all. “We’re in our teens. Nobody’s endgame in their teens! Wait, do we have confirmation Nick in his teens?”

“I try not to think about it,” said Harvey. “I get the feeling Ambrose is like… secretly fifty.”

Theo ceased looking troubled in order to look impressed.

“That boy looks good for secret fifty!” 

“I know, right?” said Harvey with conviction. “He’s the coolest witch guy in Greendale.”

“What about your boyfriend?” Theo asked, mockingly.

“Who?” Harvey pushed Theo, gently. “If you mean Nick, he should learn to wear some colors before anyone will think he’s awesome and bohemian like Ambrose Spellman!” 

“How can he wear colors when he hardly ever wears shirts?” Theo asked, and Harvey laughed. “Uh, Harv. Does he wear shirts during your very normal sleepovers?”

Harvey stopped laughing.

“So that’s a no, then,” said Theo. He raised his eyes to heaven.

“I’ve told you the sleepovers are necessary for satanic reasons!” 

Harvey felt as though Theo didn’t listen. From the look on his face, Theo felt skeptical in the extreme.

“With necessary making out?”

Right, Theo made a valid point there. 

“Not any more. I just talked to Sabrina about, um, opening up the relationship. For Nick,” said Harvey. “So that will put an end to the making out. Uh, with me, that is, obviously. The makeouts with Sabrina will be going ahead as usual.”

“Wait, I was kidding. I thought these were just attempts to make out?” asked Theo, his voice going sharp.

Harvey was guiltily silent. 

“Okay, Harv!” exclaimed Theo. “Sorry to be blunt but what is going on? Are you into dudes?” 

“Oh, no,” said Harvey. 

There was a silence. 

“Well I didn’t think so,” said Harvey. “I only ever wanted Sabrina.”

“And then…” said Theo.

“And then Roz?” Harvey offered.

There was another silence. Wheels seemed to be turning, and perhaps getting stuck, behind Theo’s very blue eyes.

“When you watch porn,” Theo began.

“I don’t watch that!” Harvey snapped. “Roz says it’s degrading to women!” He squinted at Theo suspiciously. “Do you watch—”

“There aren’t many women involved.” 

Theo shrugged and grinned sunnily up at Harvey. It was impossible to stay mad, or even get mad, at Theo. 

“Well… I don’t watch porn,” said Harvey. “I don’t want to. How would you know the people in it wanted you to watch it? It seems—rude and awkward to think about people you don’t know that way.”

“As sexual beings?” said Theo. “Not to sound like our sex ed teacher.”

“I guess,” said Harvey. “And then—well, Sabrina and I are in love, and I thought Roz and I could be.”

If you were in love, you weren’t objectifying anyone or hurting them. It was understood that you thought the best of each other, and wanted to be together in a lot of ways. 

“But Nick as a sexual being…”

Nick, who’d come to his door and talked about love as well as magic, who’d said he was down to share, who he’d taken to the movies in what had admittedly been a weird dating lesson. Nick, on that altar.

“It was somewhat, um, drawn to my attention,” said Harvey. “A lot.” 

“And now there are sleepovers with making out,” said Theo, in a voice of doom. “Wow, the only way things could get worse is if you were wearing the crop top.”

Harvey was stricken with doubt. “Why wouldn’t I wear the Nightmare on Elm Street top?”

Theo dropped all his books on the floor. “Oh my God, Harv! Are you telling me that you did!”

“Yeah…” Harvey faltered. 

He knew Theo didn’t like that shirt. At one of the few sleepovers he was allowed, with Roz and Theo, he’d put it on and Theo had forced him back into the bathroom before Roz could see.

Harvey knelt and began to gather Theo’s books. 

“I don’t think me being a lousy dresser is that important in the grand scheme of things!”

“How do I put this?” said Theo. “Remember how Billy used to brag about Lizzie meeting him at her door in that little wrap with the lingerie underneath?”

“Sure, he’s so gross… oh my God,” said Harvey, as terrible sexy light dawned.

Surely Sabrina would never have gifted him with the dude equivalent of lingerie!

Had he been dressing _provocatively_?

He recalled Nick asking, _is this for me?_ Oh no, how incredibly embarrassing, Nick had tried to have sex because he thought Harvey wanted him to, was sending him a signal. Harvey’s life was now wall to wall unfortunate misunderstandings. 

“It’s only embarrassing if he doesn’t like you,” said Theo.

“Right, which he doesn’t, so it’s totally humiliating! If you liked someone,” said Harvey. “… Wait, you don’t, do you?”

“Yeah, I have a big crush on you, let’s make out,” said Theo. “Kidding! Kidding, because you might do it. Nope, Baxter High is full of gross idiots. Billy’s the most attractive guy around, and he’s king of the gross idiots.”

“Billy!” Harvey exclaimed. “Well, of course I’d—I’d support you—”

From what Nick said, Billy might like Theo too? Oh no, double dates would be even weirder then.

Theo made a face. “Think I've already made myself clear on that subject. I wouldn’t support me dating the king of the gross idiots. Sometimes morons have symmetrical features or rocking bods, but you can’t encourage them.”

“Okay.” Harvey was deeply relieved, because he basically hated Billy. “I support you not encouraging him, too.”

“I will not be distracted from this, bud,” Theo said, implacable. “What point were you gonna make about you and Nick?”

“Just… if you liked someone. And you thought they’d already agreed to be your boyfriend, and they asked you if you liked them, you wouldn’t say no, would you?”

“Of course not, that would be the action of a madman.” 

Theo sighed as he took Harvey’s point. 

“He’s just worried about Sabrina,” said Harvey. “And… I am, too. She’s controlling the weather, and her eyes are glowing, and she seems—happy, but not in a stable way. I want to stay by her.”

He wanted it selfishly, too. But when Sabrina was feeling steadier, she wouldn’t cling to the remnants of past childish loves. He’d have to let her go.

“Sabrina is being even weirder than usual,” Theo admitted. “Which I say with love!”

“There you go,” Harvey forged ahead. “We’re all doing the best we can for the people we care about. Nick is in it to make his girlfriend happy—which I support—and to, uh, get laid, which I also support but in a distant way. So… it doesn’t matter how I could see things. I think—everything is sorted out now, and that’s better for everybody.”

Theo was chewing his lower lip.

“This is so complicated. I didn’t comment when you were dating Roz. I didn’t know if it was my place,” said Theo. “Can I say now…”

Harvey stood, offering the spilled books to Theo, and Theo chucked them all in his locker. Then Theo held open his arms, initiating the hug, and Harvey happily came in.

Theo spoke into Harvey’s shirt, around chest level. “Harv, I’m just really worried about you!”

“There’s no need to be worried,” Harvey said softly, to the top of Theo’s tousled head. “But hey, I meant to ask: will you skip the party too, and come fight a demon in the mines with me?”

\--

“Can’t believe I’m skipping a party to fight a demon in the mines with you,” Theo grumbled as he ducked his head under the barrier over Tunnel 13. “I could be bagging a hot witch guy right now.”

“Chances aren’t good. There aren’t as many witch guys as girls,” said Harvey.

“And yet Sabrina still finds herself in the middle of a love triangle,” said Theo. “Atta girl. I mean, I admit it’s a pretty untraditional love triangle…”

“That’s a misunderstanding!” said Harvey. 

“Can’t wait for the witch kids to misunderstand at the church kids,” said Theo. “Maybe it’ll be better to hear about later than actually experience. Maybe it’s good that we’re here.”

He tipped back his head, hard hat gleaming yellow in the dark. Theo had tried to go in the mines without a hard hat, but Harvey hadn’t permitted that for safety reasons. 

Theo had pointed out they were looking for demons, but Harvey wouldn’t be swayed. 

There was a rustle in the dark, then a swift stealthy sound like rushing feet or dropping water, far away. Harvey and Theo, guns in hand, swung around, then around again.

Harvey thought he saw danger, but it was just a shine on his gun barrel. 

When danger actually came, it caught him by surprise. A pale ghostly thing dropped on his chest, screeching and clawing. Harvey hit the stony ground of the mine hard, gun falling out of his hand, and he felt fire begin to singe his blood when a shot rang out.

The demon collapsed dead on Harvey’s chest. Theo loomed out of the darkness with the sights of his gun still trained on the creature.

Harvey cleared his throat, about to thank Theo, when he saw what was coming, over the shoulder of the dead white-clad thing that Theo had shot.

Down all along the mineshift, glittering like terrible uncovered gold, were demonic eyes. 

“Thanks, you’re so great, we’ve got demonic company,” Harvey whispered.

“You’re welcome and I know. Harv, your eyes are glowing again,” Theo reported. 

They might be. He was seeing things differently, so the mines seemed even darker than they had before, but evil was there, their presence sensed as well as seen. There were demons all around them, carpeting the tunnel. Moving toward Harvey.

The light of Theo’s torch went out. He heard Theo take a shaky, scared breath. He couldn’t let Theo be frightened.

“We saw your light from the gates,” hissed the creatures crawling toward him in the dark. “We came to see you, little angel. What evil have you come here to fight? Do you think you can save her?”

“Or are you craving a fall?” came another whisper, a forked tongue flickering in his ear.

Light scorched the dark sides of the tunnel. The demons fell away. When Harvey scrambled up and ran to Theo, they both saw in that blaze of celestial fire the ancient mosaic in the wall, a girl with a black band in her white hair surrounded by dark symbols.

“Oh no,” muttered Theo. “Eldritch.”

His Sabrina, his darling, who thought that her new burning power had come to her so she could make the world better.

“Theo,” said Harvey. “We’ve got to get to that party right away.”

\--

People were crowding around and dancing on the Spellman porch and on the lawn around the graves. Elspeth was holding hands with not one but two church kids. Nick was leaning into Roz, talking to her, and Roz was inclining slightly toward him. 

Nick was, clearly, laying himself out to make a good impression on the best friend. Harvey had always suspected Nick could be charming: it was just Harvey didn’t matter enough for Nick to bother. It was good he knew Roz mattered, and it would be even better if Roz liked him. Harvey thought she would. 

Everybody looked like they were really enjoying the party. Harvey was sorry to spoil their good time. 

Even Sabrina was standing happily on her rooftop with a witch’s moon behind her pale hair and a broomstick clutched in her small fist. She was wearing trousers rather than her new little skirts, so she’d planned for this. She was about to swoop into the night sky, and reveal her magic to mortals, hoping they would embrace her. Hoping she could fly, and still be loved.

Harvey's heart, which had never been securely in his own keeping, felt as though it had escaped into the sky toward her, floating higher than the moon and about to be lost in the night sky. 

Several things were instantly clear to Harvey.

He had to act.

He couldn’t let Sabrina create more trouble for herself right now, not when there was so much trouble waiting for her down in the mines. 

And he couldn’t abandon Nick again. 

He used his height and shoulders to push his way through the crowd, faster than Theo could follow him. He grabbed Nick’s hand as he went by and continued his mad dash toward Sabrina, pulling Nick along as Nick unhelpfully hissed, “Whatever insanity you’re planning, leave me—”

“Sabrina!” Harvey shouted, to the roof and the moon and the magic girl, so all of Baxter High and Invisible Academy could hear. “If you love us, come down!”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> polyamory with the harbinger of hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I disappeared for a while because of RL work grind, but I return! Thank you so much for your sweet comments on the last chapter, friends, they made me smile and sneakily write bits of this while I should've been working..

Sabrina’s eyes cleared of moonshine and madness, and she lowered her broom and got down from the roof, presumably going through Ambrose’s attic. Harvey was instantly distracted from witches on the roof by absolute witch pandemonium on the ground.

“Harvey!” yelped Elspeth, dropping both her church kids and vaulting over Sabrina’s porch rail in her Satanically Puritan minidress, a sight from which Harvey averted his eyes. “Harvey, Harvey!”

Elspeth flung herself at his chest, and Harvey had to let go of Nick and catch her so she wouldn’t be hurt. 

Standing in the circle of his arms, she beamed. “Harvey, at last!”

One of the church kids, in a state of total confusion, whispered: “Is Harvey Kinkle cool now?”

“Absolutely not,” purred a familiar contemptuous voice.

Prudence, yay! Harvey looked up to the porch and saw her swing through the Spellman’s front door, a shadow at her heels. The shadow instantly detached and threw herself down the steps.

“Harvey!” shrieked Demonia. “I missed you.”

“Does Harvey Kinkle have a secret love child,” murmured the other church kid.

Nick cleared his throat and made a sharp flicking-off-fly gesture plus the dramatic eyebrows at Elspeth, who guiltily let go of Harvey’s bicep, which for some reason she’d been clutching. Harvey sent Nick a grateful smile.

“Is Harvey Kinkle gay now?” whispered the first church kid.

Oh, Harvey wasn’t looking forward to school on Monday. 

He had to focus on the important stuff, though, so he knelt down and gave Demonia a big hug. She made a funny, startled sound into the crook of his neck.

“Missed you, too,” he told her. 

Prudence yawned. “This is the worst party I have ever attended. Sabrina Spellman has been preaching about fuzzy hugs and sharing being caring. Servants of the false god are everywhere. Now, here’s you.”

She curled her lip at the church kids, who went to hide behind the rocking chairs. All except Roz who, as queen of the church kids, curled her lip back at Prudence. Roz was so brave. Harvey was seriously impressed. 

From Prudence’s tiny smile, Prudence might be a little impressed too. Oh, how great, Harvey thought, patting Demonia absently on the back. A perfect plan. Prudence would make friends with Roz, who was much cooler than Harvey, and then Prudence would be in the friends group. 

Then Roz turned her dark eyes, now so clear and keen, back to Harvey. He felt her gaze go through him, cold and sharp.

“I think we need to talk, don’t you?” 

“Yeah,” said Harvey, giving Demonia a final pat, then stood. “You and me, and Theo and Sabrina. And Nick. We all need to talk immediately. Dr Cerberus’s, ten minutes.”

“This is serious, Roz,” added Theo. 

Roz’s gaze flicked to Theo, then rested on Harvey again. He’d never felt the weight of anyone’s gaze as this heavy before. She reached out as if to touch him, and Nick lifted his hand as though to make the sharp gesture again. Roz didn’t see, but she bit her lip and stepped back anyway.

“All right,” said Roz. “Let me get Sabrina.” 

She turned and went into the house, exchanging nods with Prudence. Harvey was still holding out hope for that friendship.

“Why are you doing insane things, Harry?” Nick asked in a low voice.

“Oh, it’s a case of mistaken identity,” said the church kid from the shadows behind the rocking chair. Wow, it was like looking into a mirror of Harvey’s innocent past. From last week.

“Yeah, Sabrina’s new Goth boyfriend is asking the real questions, though,” muttered the second church kid.

“Why is fresh blood wet?” asked Prudence. “Raving lunacy is just what that witch-hunter always does. That’s always been extremely clear. You knew what you were signing up for, Nicky. The absolute shame and indignity. An ex of mine not only completely whipped by Sabrina’s pink cauldron without any access to same… but now thoroughly dickmatized with even less chance of–”

“Prudence, how dare you,” said Harvey, hastily kneeling again and covering Demonia’s ears. “There are children present.”

“The children should hear cautionary tales about the dangers of mortals,” Prudence grumbled.

“You’re not actually Sabrina’s cousin, are you?” Theo asked suspiciously.

“Thankfully that shame belongs to another,” drawled Prudence. “It was one of many deceits Sabrina practised against you, can you ever truly trust a witch, no, should you stay away from them, yes, does anybody in this fool town ever listen to me, not really.”

As she prowled across the porch, the church kids cowered behind their rocking chairs.

“She’s cool, right,” Harvey whispered to Theo.

“Yeah,” Theo whispered back. “Kind of mean, though.”

“So mean!” Harvey confirmed.

Prudence leaned against the porch rail and ruffled Nick’s curls. Since she was Prudence, it actually looked like she was giving his hair a wickedly hard pull, but Harvey thought it might be affectionate.

“ _Oh, Prudence, let’s be friends, come to my girlfriend’s party, please, my boyfriend likes you,_ blah blah disgusting sentimental drivel, I am so tired,” said Prudence, with another hairpull. She clapped her hands. “Quick, where are three mortal fools who would trade their souls for a single night of defilement in my bed?”

People started edging out from behind the rocking chairs to line up. 

“Can I have a quick word on the subject of drivel...” Theo said, advancing on Prudence.

“Hey, dude,” a church kid told Theo earnestly. “You can’t cut in line.”

Theo made an expressive face in the church kid’s direction.

Harvey kept his hands firmly on Demonia’s ears. Really, Prudence!

Nick rolled his eyes, but there was a gleam tucked away far back in the darkness of said eyes as he glanced once more at Prudence. Aw, Harvey thought, fond. Nick had his friend back and he was happy. 

The light in Nick’s eyes went off when the Spellman door opened, and it wasn’t Sabrina. Instead it was Sabrina’s Aunt Hilda, which Harvey found to be also a welcome sight. He brightened up as soon as he saw her, and she brightened when she saw him.

“Harvey!” she said. “I heard you and Sabrina are keeping company again. I’m so happy, luv.”

Harvey beamed. “Hi Miz Spellman.”

“Hi Miz Spellman,” piped up Demonia. “Harvey is here! He’s hugging my ears.”

Harvey removed his hands from Demonia’s ears. When she made a disappointed sound, he put an arm around her. 

Nick cleared his throat and laid a hand on Harvey’s shoulder. 

“This is mine now too,” announced Nick, which was a strange and terrible way to put it. In front of a large number of Harvey’s classmates.

Harvey had explained about homophobia but Nick kept forgetting it existed! Which was… probably good for Nick. Homophobia didn’t make a lot of sense, on an intuitive level. Still, maybe Harvey should point it out to him. 

Harvey looked over at the porch, to where the church kids who weren’t fighting to get in Prudence’s line were giving Harvey a certain look he was familiar with. The look had never been this intense before. Obviously, Harvey respected religion. Roz was religious, and it was beautiful because her faith helped make her kind. But ‘judge not’ was in the Bible, he was pretty sure, so he didn’t see why so many of the church kids got judgemental. 

No, Harvey wasn’t going to say anything. Witches didn’t have much they could be innocent about. Nick had enough unpleasantness in his life without his boyfriend continually reminding him about homophobia. 

Not that Nick was… except he thought he was, and Harvey had accidentally promised that he would be, so in a way it was true. Even if he hadn’t meant the promise, he’d made it, so now he was responsible for Nick’s happiness. Harvey should keep his promise. For now. Until Sabrina explained to Nick that he could start sleeping with everybody again.

Harvey couldn’t believe Sabrina hadn’t told Nick that yet. He’d left them alone to be a romantic couple at this party! Sabrina couldn’t find the time to have an important conversation before jumping off the roof? 

Hesitantly, Harvey touched the hand grasping his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the church kids bristle. But it was worthwhile, because Nick’s grip went a little less tight. Now Harvey had dismissed the homophobia issue, another worry took its place. Nick was staring at Sabrina’s Aunt Hilda with wide eyes and a strained look on his face. It wasn’t even him being angry, which involved his eyebrows slanting like an angry Satanic emoji. It was the look of wanting someone to pay attention to him, combined with anxiety they wouldn’t.

“Hi, Hilda,” said Nick, with a slanting fake smile. Miz Spellman huffed. 

Miz Spellman didn’t know that Nick went all weird if he thought you didn’t like him. Harvey wondered what to do about this when he was thoroughly distracted.

“Aunt Zelda, I’m totally fine!” exclaimed Sabrina, escaping through the front door with Roz. Harvey relaxed slightly, having gone still at the prospect of the aunt who didn’t like him. “You were both supposed to be out,” complained Sabrina to her Aunt Hilda.

“Be reasonable, luv, we have to see to the little ones,” Miz Spellman said comfortably. “Is the party over already? What’s going on?”

“Nothing Satanic!” Harvey exclaimed. When everyone glared at him, he added, “Nothing any more Satanic than usual!”

“We’re going to Dr Cerberus’s!” announced Sabrina. “Everyone in Harvey’s truck!”

“Nobody in the death trap!” snapped Nick. “I will teleport you both.”

“Ahem,” said her Aunt Hilda, with a meaningful look at the church kids lining up for Prudence. Miz Spellman hadn’t been onboard with the ‘reveal all to mortals by jumping off roofs’ plan, then.

Nick looked quenched by her disapproval.

“You can take Sabrina in your car that you definitely own,” said Harvey, very loudly. 

A kid in line turned. “Is it a cool car? I bet it is.”

“I will drive Roz and Theo,” Harvey continued. “See you at Dr Cerberus’s.”

Nick seemed about to argue for some reason, but then Sabrina came down the steps, holding out her hand to him. Nick let go of Harvey’s shoulder so he could grasp Sabrina’s hand, warmth illuminating his face. It was clear he thought hand-holding was a special mark of favor, rather than a fairly normal thing. 

Sabrina looked worried in the moonlight, and Harvey was only going to worry her more, and that was unbearable. But she and Nick were going into the dark together, following the path at night, and surely they would comfort each other. 

Harvey sighed, let go of Demonia, and straightened up. “C’mon, guys.”

Roz and Theo made for his truck. He had to take a minute to detach Demonia again, and saw Miz Spellman staring at the path where her niece had vanished.

“Sweet Harvey,” whispered Sabrina’s Aunt Hilda, the kindest woman in the world, her hair like buttercream frosting under the full moon. “I don’t trust him.”

Harvey had made a _promise_. 

“Well, Miz Spellman,” said Harvey. “I do.”

\--

Everything was very awkward at Dr Cerberus’s. First there was a fight about seating, as though Harvey would allow anyone else in the group to sit on the chair drawn up to the booth. It was obviously nicer to be in the booth. Besides, Nick must sit beside Sabrina so he could comfort her. 

It was much more awkward telling Sabrina that they had seen an ancient-looking mosaic of her, surrounded by eldritch symbols and guarded by a demon. Dr Cerberus interrupted them in the middle to ask for their milkshake orders. Harvey drew a picture of the mosaic on a napkin for Sabrina, then saw her expression and felt even more guilty. She’d been so sure she had these strange powers for a glorious purpose. His darling always wanted to be certain, and wanted to be glorious. 

To make matters worse, Nick proceeded to analyze the picture.

“—infernal in origin,” murmured Nick, nerding out over the designs and his own arcane knowledge, and thus totally failing to notice the misery on Sabrina’s face.

“You’re _not helping_ ,” snapped Harvey, and when Nick’s eyebrows went Satanic he realized his mistake. 

Right. God. He’d just gone and told Nick he wasn’t being useful.

“What’s that, Harry,” Nick said, voice smooth as whiskey with poison in it. “Are you, the man who ran off to fight demons with his tiniest friend, criticizing how I’m handling this situation?”

Several people spoke at once. 

“Oh my goodness, Nick!” Sabrina said in a shocked tone. “His name is Harvey! How many times…”

“He’s got you there, Harv,” admitted Theo. “The mines were a bad scene.”

“I know you get around, but considering our situation you must make an effort to remember,” scolded Sabrina.

“You could have told me about the mines,” Roz murmured to Theo, then her eyes flicked to Harvey. “Or are you… picking a side?”

“No I’m not!” exclaimed Theo. “You and I discussed how we wouldn’t pick sides right after…” he glanced at Sabrina and Harvey. “But then of course…” His eyes darted all around the table. “Everything’s so weird and I might drown myself in this milkshake,” he concluded. 

Roz looked slightly comforted. Sabrina still looked intensely worried, and Nick looked silently, simmeringly furious.

First things first. Calm down Nick, so he could comfort Sabrina. 

Harvey leaned his shoulder in against Nick’s. “Sorry,” he said, quiet enough so only Nick could hear. “I meant… it’s awesome you recognize the symbols. Super helpful. I was just worried about Sabrina’s feelings.” 

Nick looked away from the napkin to Sabrina, and his anger was immediately replaced with panic. He glanced back at Harvey as if hoping for a cue. Harvey made a small gesture to indicate Nick should put his arm around Sabrina, but Nick seemed confused so the gesture hadn’t been clear.

“I didn’t expect anything infernal on my first evening home,” said Roz, rubbing her forehead. “But—anything I can do, Sabrina! Of course.”

Sabrina smiled faintly then, comforted after all. They smiled at each other, besties united. Roz was a very comforting person.

Roz wasn’t looking at Harvey. She wasn’t interested in comforting him any longer.

But Sabrina was the one with the apparently infernal destiny, and she’d always been the important one. It was good that Roz was there for her.

Sabrina squared her shoulders, brave as a soldier. 

“Thanks for finding this out, Theo.” She reached across the table to Harvey. He linked their fingers together, and she clung. “Thank you, Harvey. I’m glad you’re all right. I don’t want any of you to be in danger. I—I should consult with Ambrose. My cousin will know what all this means, and once I understand everything I’ll know what to do.” Satisfied, Sabrina gave a decisive nod. “You should go home to your parents, Roz and Theo. They’ll be sending out missing persons reports. I’ll keep you guys in the loop. Harvey… could you come with me and Nick?” 

“Oh,” said Harvey, startled. “Sure. My dad isn’t looking for me. Actually, I’m starting to feel like he’s a missing person, I haven’t seen him in days.”

“Why would you want to,” muttered Nick. 

Harvey gave him a reproachful glance, then gave Sabrina a reassuring one. Sure, he was sort of like her security blanket currently. It made sense she might want him around right now.

It was nice to be wanted, in whatever way and for whatever reason. 

“I’ll drop off Roz and Theo and meet you guys there,” said Harvey, as Sabrina and Nick stood up to leave. 

Sabrina looked down at him, still holding his hand. She had to let go, or she couldn’t leave.

“Come soon,” she said. “Promise, Harvey. Sweetheart.”

Harvey held her gaze, so she could see he meant it. “Promise.” 

She leaned down and kissed him, glancing at Roz with an air of bravado, then finally let go of his hand. There was a pause.

“See you soon, then,” said Nick, breaking the silence. “Sweetheart.”

He leaned down and kissed Harvey, too. On the mouth. At Dr Cerberus’s. _Again._ In front of Roz, this time!

Witches, why were they like this! 

Only Nick wasn’t doing anything wrong, and Harvey had promised. Harvey didn’t kiss him back, but he turned his face up, accepting the kiss, the same way he’d done with Sabrina. 

The door swung closed, jingling softly, after the cool witch couple.

Roz stared at Harvey with her eyes wide. The eyes Sabrina had cured. The eyes Harvey had loved, gazing into them even when she was blind, hoping for her to be well, praying for her to love him. Only she didn’t love him. It wasn’t fair, but resentment was a burning coal in his chest suddenly, as he met her shocked gaze. 

“Told you I wasn’t an angel,” said Harvey.

\--

He regretted it an instant later, when Roz got up and stormed out of the café. Harvey and Theo paid the bill and scrambled out. 

“Wait, Roz,” Harvey called out, and Roz spun around in the middle of Main Street.

“What could you possibly have to say to me, Harvey?” she demanded. 

“Theo, help me explain,” said Harvey, turning to appeal to him, but Theo was already running down the street in the opposite direction.

“You know what? I wanna walk home, I decided!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Love a midnight stroll after a demon attack! Hate you guys! See you Monday!”

He abandoned Harvey, alone with Roz. Usually being with Roz was one of Harvey’s favorite places to be. Now she was looking at him with hurt in her clear sweet eyes, and behind that was still the startled and reverent wariness he’d seen in her when she broke up with him. As if he was an angel, and that made him a distant stranger.

He’d forgiven Sabrina for becoming distant from him. It was only fair to forgive Roz, too, no matter how afraid he was of being left all alone.

“I wanted to say I was sorry,” Harvey said. “That was—a cheap shot. I was being a jerk.”

Roz lifted her chin. “So, you love Sabrina. You loved her all along. I was right.”

“I did,” Harvey admitted. “I do.”

“Enough to do any weird witch thing,” said Roz. “I know about Lupercalia! Clearly, it’s weirdness without end now, and you’re just going along with it… Because you love her so much it doesn’t matter.” 

She laughed a little wildly, pushing her clouds of curly hair back with fingernails she always painted clear. He’d painted them, while she was blind. 

“I was so stupid. I guess I was just, what, a distraction until Sabrina came and picked you back up? If we’d still been together and Sabrina had looked away from Nick Scratch long enough to say she loved you and missed you, would you have jumped at it?” 

“I would have said no,” said Harvey.

Roz’s sweet mouth was only able to hold a sneer for a second. It didn’t fit on her face. “Sure.”

“I made you a promise,” said Harvey. “Rosalind. I—I know I shouldn’t have asked you to the sweetheart dance, while I still felt the way I did about Sabrina. I’m—I’m so sorry. I was… with Tommy and with Sabrina… I was in despair. None of my feelings were working right, it was like… it was like my insides were the engine of my truck when it kept stopping last spring, when my dad wouldn’t let me go to the mechanic. I didn’t know how I felt. I thought I had to get over her, so I thought I could. And—and I didn’t want to miss my chance with you. You’re the only other girl I would ever even consider loving. I wanted to build something with you. Sabrina lied to me and it hurt so much. I… I wouldn’t lie to you. I wouldn’t have broken the promise between us. I would have said no.” 

Her face crumpled. She was always good at listening and understanding, Rosalind. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe it was easier for her to hate him.

“I’m the one who broke everything between us,” she said. “I know that. I don’t have a right to be angry. But—Sabrina healed me, after I was a bitch to her and I dated her ex, which isn’t exactly a bestie move--”

“But Sabrina didn’t want me anymore,” said Harvey. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She did, and I did,” stated Roz flatly. 

“Then I did much worse,” Harvey argued. “I’m sorry. That’s what I came after you to say. Don’t think you were stupid. You’re one of the smartest people I know. I do love you. Not like—that’s over between us, and you were right to break it off. I never would have, and you deserve better than someone who didn’t know their own heart. I hate that I hurt you.”

“I hate that I hurt you, too,” Roz told him. “I know I did. We can both be sorry.”

“You did hurt me. I’m not an angel and I hate that you said I was to put me—away from you, away from Theo and ’Brina. I don’t want to be separated. I don’t care if it’s by heaven or hell.”

Fear for Sabrina was running through him like blood, but he’d hurt Roz, and he couldn’t walk away from that. Even though both of them had walked away from him.

Roz drew in a deep breath, and nodded, and didn’t walk away. Instead she stepped forward, because she was brave as well as kind, and Harvey wrapped his arms around her.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” she said into his shirt. “But I had to—”

“You had to do what was best for you. I do get that. I want you to, because I love you.” 

It hurt him, but that didn’t matter. 

“This is so hard,” Roz whispered, her cloud of hair in his eyes. 

He’d said something similar to Sabrina, in February, when he thought they were over, that they had to be over. He hated thinking of Roz’s insides not working, the way his had felt. 

“I’m so sorry, Rosalind. What can I do?”

Softly, Roz said, “Just hold me a little more.” 

He did, his face in her hair, and hated himself for hurting her. Rosalind who was so smart, Rosalind who always explained things to him, Rosalind who sang in her church choir like an angel herself. He’d done the wrong thing, but he really had hoped to build something with her, had believed he could someday be happy again, with her, if she would stay. And he’d believed that because she was wonderful, great at everything and far too good for him, and what kind of fool wouldn’t be happy with Rosalind?

She and Theo had held his hands through his brother’s second funeral. She’d held his hands at the sweethearts dance, her dress shining gold as hope, and he’d been able to bear Nick and Sabrina on the dance floor because of her. And he shouldn’t have been thinking of Sabrina, even then. 

Roz had been his last hope that somebody would want him enough to keep.

She was wonderful, and not for him. He held her and he was grateful for the illusory moments of hope, and he said goodbye to that foolish dream. Everyone knew he was a fool. 

He patted her back, then leaned away a little, putting space between them.

“Could we…” Harvey asked. “Could we be okay someday?”

“I must help Sabrina, so we have to be okay now,” said Roz, resolutely. “Can I ask you for something?”

Harvey nodded. “Anything, Rosalind.”

She laid a hand against his chest, the way she used to do before they kissed. She must be about to push him back, and Harvey would let her.

Nick drawled, “Am I interrupting something?”

Harvey turned around to see Nick, and was very pleased to see him for a moment. Nick would know what to do, he thought, Nick could perhaps cheer or charm Rosalind, but Nick’s eyes were cold and black as he looked in Roz’s direction. Right, due to the infernal symbols mosaic, Nick probably wasn’t in the mood to charm anyone.

“Why are you here?” Harvey asked.

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Well, apologies for spoiling a tender moment, but Sabrina was wondering where you were. I’ll go back and tell her you were embracing your ex.” 

“Okay,” said Harvey, then told Roz, “Hang on.” 

He set Roz aside from him, gently as he could, and headed toward Nick.

“Yeah, you should tell ’Brina I had to stay with Roz,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry, I know ’Brina must be freaking out. But you’re there. Teleport back. You have to stay with her.”

Nick’s face began to be startled, before he shut it down. “Obviously, farm boy.”

“Good,” said Harvey. “Just, please… comfort her.”

With a touch of uncertainty that didn’t show in his face, Nick asked, “Are you sure she wants me to?” 

“Yeah, of course,” said Harvey.

Nick’s eyes ticked across Harvey’s face, like clock hands trying to ascertain the time. “Well, all right. I can do that. I mean… I’d like to.”

“You’ll do great,” said Harvey. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

“You’d better,” said Nick, then teleported away.

Nick was angry about something, that was clear. Maybe just the world, for doing this to Sabrina. Harvey should go to ’Brina, but he couldn’t leave Roz. He turned back and saw Roz, watching him under a streetlight. The light haloed her hair with orange.

“What did you want to ask me, Rosalind?” he said. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

“Don’t tell me that you love me again,” whispered Roz, eyes tear-bright. 

Harvey nodded. She wasn’t interested in being loved by something she considered to be like an angel, but she did let him drive her home. 

Reverend Walker opened the door of the truck, and helped Roz out as if she was still blind. Then he told her to go inside, so he could have a word. 

Felt like this was the talk dads had with you at the start of dating a girl, rather than the end.

“You were good to Roz when she was… sick, and I’m a Christian man,” said Revered Walker. “I could forgive you for breaking my little girl’s heart.”

“I didn’t—” Harvey bit his lip, and stared at the wheel.

“My parishioners have been calling me about Sabrina Spellman’s little party. Roz won’t be attending any more of them. Do enjoy gatherings with that bunch of sinners. And that _boy_ ,” said Reverend Walker, and the contempt in his voice made Harvey’s stomach twist. “As if it wasn’t enough, Roz insisting on sticking close to that Putnam girl--”

Harvey lifted his chin. “Keep your mouth off Theo.”

“Don’t you dare take that tone with me!”

“Judge not, lest you be a total dick,” said Harvey, and backed up out of the reverend’s driveway with a screech of tires, headed for the witches’ house.

\--

Ambrose answered the door with his usual flourish, but he didn’t make fun of Harvey so his mind was clearly elsewhere. 

“Harvey,” he murmured. “It’s a revolving door of suitors. Nick whirled in like a man on a mission twenty minutes ago. Glad we live in romantically exciting times, but can someone explain to me this apparently important napkin Sabrina was waving around? She said we had to wait for you.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Harvey mumbled, moving past Ambrose. He should get to ’Brina as fast as possible. She expected him to be always there to catch her.

Ambrose cleared his throat. “Ah, Harvey—”

He took the steps two at a time, leaving Ambrose far behind him. He could hear Sabrina’s voice. She sounded as though she was in distress. God, how upset _was_ she?

“Oh hell,” she was sobbing. “Oh heaven, oh _Nick_ …”

Harvey’s thoughts weren’t moving as fast as he was, but they caught up with him at the door. If only he hadn’t opened it first.

He didn’t look for long, but the image burned itself across his retinas and then fractured into pieces in his mind, as though he’d walked headfirst into a mirror. He’d seen Sabrina in her bra before. He hadn’t seen her in a black lace bra and nothing else, stretched out across her bed with her head thrown back, a long lovely stretch of moon-pale skin with two black interruptions. One of her small hands was holding fast to her headboard, and the other was knotted tight in Nick’s black curls. He was shirtless on the bed, between her thighs.

“Oh no,” murmured Harvey. “Oh God. Really sorry. Just—so sorry. I’ll go.”

Sabrina’s hand unlinked from the curling wrought iron of her headboard, reaching for a throw pillow. “Harvey,” she said, voice gone faint.

“Don’t go,” purred Nick, looking over his bare shoulder with a tiger’s-tail curl on his wet, gleaming mouth. “Join us.”

Harvey slammed the door closed, then walked to the stairs, then remembered he couldn’t go anywhere because of the infernal mosaic issue. 

Ambrose, on the stairs with a beringed hand on the banister, raised his eyebrows at him. “I did try to warn you.”

“Sure,” said Harvey, staring at the wallpaper over Ambrose’s head. “My fault.”

There was a brief commotion from inside Sabrina’s room, and then Sabrina emerged in a totally different outfit, one of her new dark skirts with a soft old sweater, her dark lipstick no longer smeared.

“You got dressed really fast,” Harvey noted, somewhat dazed. 

“I can use magic to wish myself into a whole different outfit in a blink,” explained Sabrina. 

“Oh,” said Harvey weakly. “Cool.”

“I’m sorry-” Sabrina began.

“No!” said Harvey. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I was just… surprised…”

He trailed off wretchedly, and as he did so Nick emerged from Sabrina’s bedroom, pulling on his shirt as he did so. On sight of the abs Ambrose gave a casual wolf whistle, and Nick smiled. Then the smile started to die as he looked from Harvey to Sabrina, and back again.

“Something wrong?”

“Harvey walked in on…” Sabrina began.

“Nope!” said Harvey. “Everything is fine.” 

“What’s the problem here? He told me to,” said Nick. 

“I!” exclaimed Harvey. “I did no such thing—”

Nick stopped looking pleased with himself, and started looking mad with Harvey. “You said, comfort her!”

“With sex?” Harvey demanded, then bit his lip. “I mean, that’s none of my—it’s between you and—” 

“Of course it’s your business, Harvey, what do you mean?” demanded Sabrina.

“Doesn’t count as sex for ritual purposes, if that helps,” said Nick. “You can still get sacrificed unless there’s penetration. Of either party,” he added absently.

“I can’t believe you said that in your nerd voice,” said Harvey.

“Dear me,” drawled Ambrose. “Seems the union of mortals and witches isn’t without its own unique problems. Who could have suspected? If this is just relationship drama, I was recently incarcerated and well—I don’t need my beauty sleep, because gorgeous, but I could fancy some shut-eye.” 

Sabrina dived for her cousin, grasping his hand with hers and brandishing the napkin with Harvey’s drawing on in his face.

“No, Ambrose! I have to talk to you. I know you’ll have the answers.”

Ambrose’s eyes crossed, the napkin inches from his face.

“Are those infernal symbols?”

“That’s what I keep saying!” exclaimed Nick. 

\--

Ambrose thought Sabrina was the harbinger of hell who would herald the apocalypse. Everyone had books of dark magic in their laps, but it was Ambrose who called it. Harvey glanced at Nick, whose quickly repressed expression of extreme trauma confirmed it.

Sabrina shut up her own book while she processed this. Their infernal discussion had ground to an abrupt halt.

“… that’s bad news,” Harvey said, finally.

“Amazing call there, Harvey,” said Ambrose. 

He facepalmed for a moment—he even made that look sort of louche, he was like Dorian but cooler and actually a great person—but then uncurled from his chair so he could lay his facepalming hand on Sabrina’s shoulder. Sabrina’s entire tiny bird-boned body, which had been a ball of concentrated stress, relaxed slightly.

Her Aunt Hilda was cooking for the kids in the kitchen, and apparently her Aunt Zelda was off pretending to be brainwashed for her evil husband, but Sabrina would be all right as long as her cousin was here. The Spellmans were the best family Harvey knew. He was so glad Sabrina had them. 

He checked in on Nick, who was still looking traumatized but with a slight overlay of peace, watching Ambrose and Sabrina. Harvey thought Nick might feel the same way about Sabrina’s family as he did.

The peace instantly dissipated when Ambrose offered that they could destroy Sabrina’s power by transferring it to a mandrake somewhere? Harvey didn’t understand how the mandrake spell would work, and he wasn’t sure exactly what a mandrake was, but one thing Ambrose was clear about.

The spell would make Sabrina mortal.

“That would break our aunties’ hearts,” said Ambrose, in a voice that meant ‘that would break my heart.’

Harvey didn’t have a doubt in his mind which boy in the room Sabrina loved best: it was Ambrose, and Sabrina couldn’t meet Ambrose’s eyes when she was thinking of breaking his heart.

“You’ve given me a lot—” _breaking your heart_ —"to think about,” said Sabrina, getting to her feet and clutching the book Ambrose had been reading to her chest. 

She carried the book downstairs, and Ambrose didn’t follow her. Harvey did, because he couldn’t teleport and he had to use the front door if he wanted to leave.

He didn’t leave, though he wondered if he should. Sabrina sat down at the little wooden table in her kitchen, the one near the kitchen table where she used to do her mortal homework under her Aunt Hilda’s eye. Harvey had been allowed in to do homework with her a couple of times, and spent a long time after thinking about how nice the house was, how delicious all the food smelled, how lovely and dear her Aunt Hilda was, how pretty and smart Sabrina was.

The prettiest and smartest girl in the world. The harbinger of hell. 

Harvey leaned in the doorway. Nick went and sat beside Sabrina at the table, to urge her not to do the mandrake spell.

“I don’t care about the world, I only care about you!” said Nick, and hesitated. “And—”

Harvey felt he had to break in at this point. “That’s a totally romantic thing to say, Nick, but Sabrina lives in the world? So do all of us. I think we should be thinking seriously about world-saving.”

“I would die to save the world,” said Sabrina, who was a hero.

“So would I,” agreed Harvey, ignoring the betrayed glare Nick was giving him, “but… ’Brina, there has to be some way to save both you and the world.”

Sabrina wrung her hands. “So, Ambrose’s mandrake spell…”

“ _No_ ,” said Nick, which wasn’t a thing Nick liked to say to Sabrina. Everyone looked shocked and horrified by the word, including Nick. He gazed at her with dark imploring eyes, and reached for her hand. 

This was clearly a romantic moment, and also a moment of emotional vulnerability for Nick.

Harvey should go! He turned around and headed into the hall, where he found Ambrose sitting on the steps. He’d thrown on an emerald-colored dressing gown as if he found them comforting. He wore them a lot. 

Harvey gestured to the door. “Nick and Sabrina are having a moment.”

“Dramatic, no doubt. They’re a highly dramatic couple,” said Ambrose. “Of course, so are you two. So’s Sabrina by herself. Possibly my cousin’s a one-woman show. I’m more low-key.”

Ambrose was currently wearing a lavender silk shirt as well as his emerald dressing gown.

“You don’t, um, seem very low-key.”

Ambrose grinned. “I’m low-key in a flashy way.”

“Oh, okay,” said Harvey, grinning back.

“So you’re back on the scene, are you?” Ambrose asked. 

Harvey looked at the floor. “Sort of.” 

Only—that was maybe over now. 

“I thought that might be the way things were going, around Yuletide,” said Ambrose, to Harvey’s extreme shock. “Then I thought maybe not. Ah well. Sabrina has her reasons, of which reason knows nothing.” 

“I know you’re not the biggest fan of me,” Harvey said awkwardly.

“It’s nothing personal, it’s just I personally don’t find you that compelling. Make my cousin cry again, or say a single word to persuade her into mortality, and I’ll replace your intestines with snakes,” said Ambrose. “Just a friendly warning. No hard feelings.”

He was still smiling, all white teeth. 

“Uh… none taken,” said Harvey. “Um… I’m sorry about your boyfriend.”

“No worries, can I have yours instead?” 

“Ah…” Harvey blinked hard, several times. 

Ambrose’s smile spread. “I’m playing with you, Harvey. I don’t care what Sabrina does romantically as long as she’s happy and it’s amusing. Yes, I’m not a fan of witch-hunters in general. So I thought it would be best if you stayed away. But if her heart’s set on you, and you’re going to be useful, and she isn’t doing anything insane like throwing a perfectly delicious warlock out of bed, who am I to criticize? She’s actually showing me up. Here’s my little baby cousin with two boyfriends and I don’t have any. What’s next?”

“There’s Prudence,” Harvey suggested, trying to be a wingman. 

“Harvey!” exclaimed Ambrose, eyes bright. “I’m so impressed with your recent daring, but she will kill you! And then Sabrina will kill her!”

“I meant for you,” said Harvey. “Do you—do you not like her?”

Ambrose blinked. “She recently tortured me.”

“Oh,” faltered Harvey. “Um… I was kind of getting the impression… is that a deal-breaker for witches?”

“No,” answered Ambrose. “I only figured it meant she probably wasn’t that into me.”

He recalled what little Sabrina and Nick and the other witches had let slip.

“I think she just—really wants to please her dad,” said Harvey. “I remember what that’s like. Uh, not that I tortured… Um. Anyway, she’s cool and she likes you, so that… seemed like it might be nice.” 

“Last I heard, she had a line forming,” drawled Ambrose.

“I just think she’d let you skip the line,” said Harvey. “Maybe I’m wrong. Don’t tell her I said anything, she really will kill me.”

“Interesting,” said Ambrose. “Our emotionally intelligent lamb in the pit of vipers. I’m beginning to understand why you’re leaving such an impression, even if I can’t see the appeal myself. The Dark Lord would rather keep our emotions somewhat stunted. Blunt weapons suit him best, for certain purposes.”

“But you’re not…” Harvey began.

“I am a little,” Ambrose admitted easily. “I would sell you to my dark god for one corn chip, if it wouldn’t upset Sabrina. Plus, I’m fairly intelligent in all areas. And I was raised by my Auntie Hilda. The Academy kids got Father Blackwood, and he’s very good at warping what he touches. He almost had me, and I’m old enough to know better. No wonder Prudence and Nick are beautiful, twisted plants.”

Ambrose leaned forward, elbows on his knees. 

“Now tell me something. Are you going to speak for or against this mandrake spell?”

“I’m not,” Harvey answered. “I told her—I told her in February I didn’t care what she was. Then I was mean to her about her magic, and then I saw what the witch-hunters did. I don’t want to be like them. I want to keep every promise I make.”

“You might do well to recall our lord is the Prince of Lies,” murmured Ambrose. “Witches are very sexy, but not very trustworthy.”

“I—I don’t agree,” said Harvey. “I know Sabrina lied to me, but… once I met the witch-hunters, I started to see why. I know you don’t like me, but you’ve always been kind. I think you’re trying to be kind now, even though you’re worried to death about Sabrina. And at… at my brother’s first funeral, my dad was going to hit me, and I think your Aunt Zelda did something to stop him. And she likes me even less than you do. A witch stood for me when my father didn’t. I can choose who to trust for myself.”

“All right, Harvey. I don’t make decisions for other people,” said Ambrose, with a wave of his hand. “Never have. Good luck with your thing. I will admit, my cousin’s very cute.”

Harvey smiled a little. “I think so.” 

“It’s a family thing,” said Ambrose, and laughed. Harvey laughed too. It was very difficult not to laugh along with Ambrose.

“Um,” he said, suddenly worried about the Prudence situation, “when you said, you were old enough to—how old are you?”

Was it more than secret fifty?

“Too old for you,” said Ambrose, and laughed again. 

The kitchen door opened. Nick stood there with his arms folded.

“Sabrina was wondering where you'd gone,” he said in a cold voice. "Again." 

“Oh, no,” said Harvey. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry her.”

“You should be sorry,” said Nick. 

Now Nick was angry about something else. Harvey guessed everyone was tightly wound at the moment. Harvey checked in on Ambrose for a clue, since Ambrose was so smart, but Ambrose merely seemed deeply amused. Then Ambrose’s face changed, finally taking something seriously, and Harvey turned to see Sabrina coming up behind Nick.

She had a stubborn set to her chin. He didn’t think Nick had managed to talk her out of anything.

\--

Harvey was trying to give Nick and Sabrina space, but going to the next room was apparently forbidden.

So he stood at the bottom of the porch steps while Sabrina held Nick’s hands—great job, ’Brina—and let them say their tender goodbye. Not for the first time, it occurred to Harvey what a natural pair they looked: Nick’s coal-black head inclined attentively downward to the shine of Sabrina’s ice-white hair, the air of wearing complementing leather jackets even if neither of them were currently doing so. They looked like king and queen of an evil fortress, or a Goth prom. 

Harvey tried to concentrate on the moon. It seemed wildly unfair that Sabrina had to deal with being the harbinger of hell on a full moon, when a full moon should be lucky for witches.

In order to prevent Sabrina from doing mandrake spells, Nick was promising to go to the library for Sabrina, which was obviously a highly romantic gesture from that nerd. He thought he could find another solution. Harvey hoped he was right.

“Promise me you’ll wait before doing that spell,” said Nick, and Sabrina promised, with a rustle that might be a sweet little hug and a kiss.

Unfortunately, Harvey had heard Sabrina’s sugar-sweet promising voice before, with Aunt Zelda and various teachers who Sabrina had decided were in the wrong so lying to them didn’t count. He still vividly recalled the incident with their science teacher and the soda water.

Harvey’s head whipped around in time to see Sabrina, in fact, doing what he’d suspected she was doing. “’Brina! I cannot believe you just promised and crossed your fingers! Are we literally five years old!”

Sabrina bit her lip. Nick recoiled from her with a look of shock.

“It just seems to me if it’s a question of world salvation we should do it as soon as possible!” protested Sabrina. 

“What did I say when we talked about getting back together? No more lies. And now we’re back together. Promise me you won’t do anything tonight,” said Harvey. “And show me your hands!”

Sabrina held up her hands in surrender. “I promise I won’t do anything tonight.”

Harvey relaxed. “Thank you.” 

She came tripping down the steps to him, holding out the hands she’d lifted. “Why are you all the way over there? Is it… is the harbinger of hell thing too much? I’ll fix it, I swear--”

Harvey enfolded her in his arms, horrorstruck. “God, no, ’Brina. Sweetheart. If ‘too much’ was too much for me, like, I mean this in a good way… but I wouldn’t have had a crush on you since our sandbox years.”

Sabrina held onto his shirt, stroking the collar in a way she had. “Are you scared?” she asked. “Because Nick and I will protect you.”

He couldn’t snap at Sabrina, not when she was freaking out about being a harbinger.

He did narrow his eyes at Nick over her head. “I’m not scared,” he said flatly.

“I’m a little scared,” Sabrina said, in a small voice. He checked himself and looked down into her eyes. “I was so sure I was meant to do something great and good. And now… this? What am I, if this is what I’m meant for? If I could just do something, I wouldn’t be scared. When I do things, I’m not scared.”

 _Everyone else is,_ Theo’s voice in Harvey’s head contributed, and Harvey smiled because he loved Theo, and he loved this girl. 

He dropped a kiss on her ice-white hair, and felt her give a little sigh, and finally relax in his arms. 

“You’ll do great and good things, because that’s who you are,” he told her. “Tomorrow.”

\--

When Sabrina went inside, hopefully to get some rest, Harvey headed to his truck.

“Can you not,” asked Nick.

“Okay, here’s a boundary,” Harvey said. “I’m gonna continue to drive my own truck.”

“Can you not.. right now,” said Nick, sounding tired. “Will you walk with me for a little while?”

Oh.

“Yeah,” said Harvey, softer. “I can do that.”

He’d left his truck at Sabrina’s before, so he could walk her to school. He was used to walking through these wild woods with a witch by his side. A different witch, of course, but he cared about this one too. Nick was all strained lines of black and white by moonlight, prowling at Harvey’s side with barely leashed fury.

“Did you wanna talk about Sabrina being the harbinger of hell and wanting to do the mandrake spell?” Harvey offered.

“No,” said Nick curtly. “I’ll go to the library and fix that. There will be no more being mortal on my watch!”

He got that Nick was a nerd, but this was a lot of faith to put in the library. Harvey supposed sometimes the library was all nerds had. 

Also, he didn’t want to fight about it since the harbinger stuff had them all frantic, but Nick could try to remember he was actually talking to a mortal. Message received that witches thought mortals were gross and inferior, but there was no need to insult Harvey to his face. 

“What was it you wanted to talk about, then?” Harvey asked, voice slightly testy.

“Obviously, you can fuck Ambrose if you want to,” said Nick.

There was an echoing, shattered silence after Nick dropped that bomb.

Harvey couldn’t believe Nick had said that, with only Harvey and the full moon as witness. Other people should know Nick was out of his mind.

No, it had been a stressful evening. Harvey should think about why Nick would say such a thing. Harvey took a deep breath of cold night air in the wild woods, and thought.

“Oh,” Harvey said. “Okay, wow, I get why you’ve been weird all evening.” He took another deep breath, then said, accusing: “You were clearly getting _high_ at that party before I arrived!”

It was all so clear now. That’s why Sabrina had tried to jump off a roof. Everybody was high. 

“I mean, I’ve fucked Ambrose,” continued Nick. “Well, technically, he fucked me. It was great. Except Luke tried to get involved and I was forced to elbow him in the head. It’s not that I’m happy Luke was murdered by witch-hunters, but it will make social situations less awkward from now on.”

 _Can I deal with this information?_ Harvey asked himself, and then answered himself. _No, I can’t. Put in the can’t-deal-with-this box._

“Huh,” he said, simply refusing to deal. 

“I don’t care at all. I’m just pointing out this is something of a troubling time. Must you flirt with people constantly?” Nick asked. “You will make Sabrina anxious and upset.”

“I’m not talking to you while you’re high,” Harvey snapped. “But for your information, I’ve never flirted with anybody in my whole life. Nobody. Ever. Thanks for your time.”

He’d wanted to flirt with Sabrina, of course, but he’d never been the smooth-talking type. Not like Nick. And now that Sabrina was obviously no longer hesitating to be intimate with Nick, she wasn’t going to need her security blanket for long. Harvey had been, he realized, hoping he could hold on for longer.

“I thought,” began Nick, then shut his mouth with a snap. 

Resenting Nick wasn’t fair. Nick looked miserable about Sabrina, and Sabrina hadn’t even told him that Nick was free to debauch with other people yet. Nick had described himself as comforting Sabrina, because—Harvey remembered this awful detail now—Nick said he’d only been comforted in a non-sexual way twice.

He’d gone through the trash when he was a kid, searching for scraps to eat. And he’d gone in the trash the other day, desperate to earn scraps of affection. 

“Hey,” said Harvey, gently. “Nick. How are you feeling? You can tell me.”

“I feel awesome,” Nick snarled. “I feel like I should be going to the library!”

“Okay,” Harvey said. “Bye.”

He reached out without thinking, because he was feeling worried for Nick and wanted to hold onto him, even though this was the kind of behavior that made Theo get stern and smack him away. Nick didn’t do that. He held still for an instant when Harvey’s arm went around his shoulders, and Harvey was about to retreat in awkward horror when Nick dipped his head down and laid his forehead against Harvey’s shoulder.

“I hate your shirt,” Nick said, into his shirt. Harvey made a face down at Nick’s ruffled hair. Nick continued, “But I like your jacket.”

“Oh, really?” Harvey was vaguely surprised. “I wouldn’t have thought it was your style. I don’t know where my brother bought it, sorry.”

Nick sighed. Harvey ran a hand down his back, the way he did after Nick’s nightmares. The wind blowing through the bare branches that framed the moon was cold, but Nick’s breath running down the nape of Harvey’s neck was warm. 

Eventually, Nick leaned back, and said, with difficulty, “Can I—ask for something?”

“Anything,” said Harvey.

He saw Nick’s mouth twist. He’d said the wrong thing, obviously, and he didn’t even know why.

“You say ‘anything’ to everybody,” Nick told him distantly. “Forget it. Later, mortal.”

He gestured as he spoke, and teleported so fast that stars and darkness replaced where his face had been when the word ‘mortal’ was still on the air. 

Harvey sighed, huddled into his sheepskin-lined jacket, and walked home alone through the dark woods under the full moon. 

The windows were lit up in his house, glaring yellow like cold eyes, cold as Reverend Walker’s eyes had been tonight. Harvey’s nerves jangled with the keys he slid into the lock of his front door. His dad was home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romance in the time of the apocalypse!

Harvey entered the house, walking carefully, the way he used to when his dad might have a hangover. His dad’s miner’s helmet was hanging on the hook in the hall, a twin beside Harvey’s, the way his dad’s and Tommy’s used to hang together. Harvey didn’t like looking at them.

“Hi, Harv,” said his dad, who was wolfing down a microwave dinner at the kitchen table. 

He seemed normal, but his normal always had a slight air of being mad, since he didn’t like Harvey and didn’t really want him around. Harvey guessed it would suck to have a kid you didn’t like, a guest you couldn’t ask to leave for eighteen long years.

“Hey, Dad.”

He hadn’t eaten anything except a milkshake, what with all the excitement. He should microwave a dinner himself, but right now he was feeling a little sick. Harvey made himself a cup of coffee instead, because that reminded him of Nick and caused him to feel slightly braver.

“Stan was saying,” began his father, while Harvey gripped the coffee canister tight, “you were getting smart with him down in the mines. Little respect for your elders and betters, OK?”

“Is Stan my better?” 

His father snorted. “Practically everyone is, kid. Don’t think you can get smart with me just because you got big.”

He never felt as small as when he was with his father. He found himself hunching his shoulders slightly, studying his dad under his own fall of hair as though he could hide somehow, like an animal behind tall grass.

“Did… did you hear anything else?”

“Haven’t been getting out and about much. Mostly been in a bedroom, to tell you the truth,” said his dad, not making eye contact.

Harvey made a highly grossed out face at his coffee cup.

“Why, anything new happening in this old town?” 

Harvey shrugged, staring at the knots in the kitchen table. 

“God, what a weird kid,” his dad said under his breath. “Sulking over getting dumped, are we? Not the first time it’s happened to you, and it won’t be the last.”

Harvey cleared his throat. “I know.”

His dad slapped him on the shoulder, too hard, before he went off to watch TV. They would sometimes watch TV together when Roz was there, to seem normal, but Harvey guessed there wasn’t any more reason to do that. Harvey put the remains of his dad’s microwave dinner in the trash, and went to his room.

He was tired, but he assumed Nick would get there pretty late. So he took out his sketchbook and put graphite to paper, intending to draw Sabrina and calm the restless worry itching at his heart.

Sabrina’s chin tilted back, face beautifully contorted, as she gasped, “Oh heaven, oh hell, oh Nick…”

Harvey hesitated and drew back, pencil hovering over the paper in the shape of the arch of Sabrina’s body, and Nick’s shoulders.

Nope! Harvey drew the demons from the mines, which might be helpful and was less scary. Then he drew the demon Theo had killed. By that time, the sky was the color of an inkpot someone had emptied, stained murky blue but growing transparent because it was empty, and Nick still hadn’t come. 

He could hear his father in the next room, getting ready to go down the mines. Harvey felt a little relieved he was going, then bleak because of the relief. His dad was all he had. No part of him should be glad to be left alone.

Harvey threw himself back on the bed and went to sleep, too tired to even draw the blankets over himself, and woke up squinting in the light through the open curtains, and cold. 

He’d got kind of used to having someone else around. 

\--

It was a Saturday, and there was nothing to do except try to support his girlfriend the harbinger of hell.

Harvey walked back to the Spellman house to pick up his truck, and Zelda Spellman answered the door. She was wearing a pastel dress, and an expression of homicidal fury.

“Ah… hello,” said Harvey. “Can I see…”

“I’m in no mood to entertain the delusions of affection counterfeited by dangerous and overbearing men,” she said frostily.

“Hey, auntie,” called Ambrose, from the parlor. 

“Not you, Ambrose, your contributions to the family are appreciated and I regret colluding in your incarceration,” said Zelda. 

Wow, so Ambrose really had been framed for murder.

“I’m, uh, I try not to be overbearing,” said Harvey.

“But one must ask oneself, is it in the blood?” Zelda Spellman’s lip curled, and it felt as though she was searching for his father in his face. “Excuse me, Harvey. I have been married for one terrible week, my trust in the opposing gender is at an all-time low, and I do not have the patience to entertain witch-hunters on the premises at this time.”

And Zelda really had been brainwashed by that Father Blackwood guy.

“I’m sorry about your husb—” Harvey began.

“I understand that Sabrina is, for now, stubbornly clinging to childish ties,” said Zelda. “No doubt they will soon be broken. In the meantime, as you also have access to Sabrina’s primary and far more lithely muscled suitor, ask him and he can tell you how Sabrina fares.” 

She slammed the door in his face. Well, Harvey had always known what she’d thought of him. It had been big of her to use magic to defend him, just the same. She’d cried, at Tommy’s funeral. She’d been icily polite for Sabrina’s sake for years. She hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.

It still stung, hearing the truth. Harvey went down the porch steps slowly, then figured the hell with it, he’d just get hexed, and threw some gravel and grave dirt at Sabrina’s window. She slid the sash window up, her face brightening the day better than sunrise. 

“Harvey!”

“Hey, ’Brina,” said Harvey. “Um. Your aunt isn’t letting me in the house. Can you magic us up a balcony, so we’re properly starcrossed?”

“I defy you, stars,” said Sabrina, and climbed out of her window. 

She was wearing trousers today, which made window-climbing more possible: dark blue trousers and a short light-blue cardigan. With her cloud-pale hair, she looked like a piece of the sky. 

She was a very alarming piece of the sky.

“’Brina, do not!” began Harvey, and Sabrina giggled and jumped. 

She used a little bit of magic on the way down, and went a bit floaty, but it was still a frightening moment until she landed safe in his arms. 

She laughed again, fingers curling against his jaw and turning his face in to hers so he would kiss her, the way she used to when they were just talking in a booth with their friends or strolling around at the summer fair. He kissed her back, nuzzling into her cheek, then swung her around to make her laugh.

She’d jumped off a roof, but he set her on her feet carefully. Maybe it was dumb, but he didn’t know any other way to treat her. She was precious to him.

Then they went for a walk, holding hands as they rambled through the woods. 

“How are you doing, ’Brina?” Harvey asked. 

“I’m okay,” said Sabrina, setting her chin determinedly. “I can do this mandrake spell, if Nick doesn’t turn up anything. The mandrake becomes a double, a vessel for my magic, and then I can prune the bit of me off that might endanger the world.”

Fear shot through Harvey. “I don’t know how I feel about any of you being pruned.”

“Harvey… Wouldn’t you… wouldn’t you want me to be mortal?” 

“I want you to be you,” Harvey said, soft. “Witch. Harbinger. Whatever.”

“It would be easier to be together, if I was mortal,” Sabrina said, quiet. 

If she did the spell would it be him, then, and not Nick? Or did she mean that Nick wouldn’t want to be with her? Harvey was certain Nick would.

Instead of asking, he said: “Since when did you like easy?”

“Since never.” Sabrina grinned, then her grin faded. “But I hurt you so much.”

“I don’t want you to protect me by giving away pieces of yourself,” said Harvey. “I’m not scared.”

“And how about saving the world?”

“That seems important, yeah,” said Harvey. “But I can’t believe you’d doom the world. There has to be another way.”

“I thought there was another way when it came to signing the Book,” said Sabrina, her hand clinging tight to his, her fingers cold. “There wasn’t. You’re sure you wouldn’t feel any differently about me, if I did the spell?”

This seemed like more than handholding was called for, so Harvey put his arm around her. He’d been concerned about her high-heeled boots when she was on the roof, but they did mean her shoulders were a bit higher up than they used to be. She snuggled in, closing her eyes. 

“I told you. I just want you to be you, and for us to be honest with each other. Speaking of, I think it’s important that you and Nick have that talk--”

“We did,” said Sabrina brightly. “At the party. He said he was fine.”

Harvey blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“He said he was fine with the way things were.” Sabrina’s eyes flew wide open, as though she couldn’t possibly understand where there could be any confusion. “The three of us. Isn’t that great?”

Wow! No, ’Brina, that was not great! Was he actually going to have to explain that there would be no… celestial… sex… stuff? He could barely say that in his own mind, let alone to Nick.

Sabrina winked one dark eye. “Honestly, how freaked out were you last night? When you walked in—”

Harvey swallowed. “I was a little bit freaked out.” 

“I wasn’t planning on it happening myself,” Sabrina confessed. “But Nick asked, he said all he wanted was to make me feel good, and I was so on edge and then—it did make me. Feel really good.”

Her voice went low as she admitted that. It didn’t sound like guilt. It was the way Nick’s voice went low, sometimes. She sneaked a look up at him, under lashes painted black, then leaned away from him, against one of the trees, and beckoned. 

Harvey set a hand against the tree, over her head, and leaned in to kiss her. She smoothed her palms up his shirt, then clasped her hands behind his neck, pulling him down deeper into the kiss. For a moment he didn’t know if it was the rushing of wind through the leaves or the roar of blood in his ears. She kissed him, mouth open and hungry in a way it hadn’t been once, in a way that knew what she was hungry for. He grasped the slender curve of her waist and remembered how she’d arched.

“That’s—that’s good that you felt good,” he gasped out against her mouth.

“I missed you every minute,” she said between kisses, “I thought I’d never get to do this again—”

“Me too,” said Harvey. “God, me too, I—’Brina--”

“ _Sabrina Spellman_!” Her Aunt Zelda’s voice echoed accusingly through the trees. “Where are you?”

Harvey and Sabrina sprang apart, then linked hands again and rushed deeper into the woods. Not to escape her aunt, but to steal a little more time. She giggled and he hushed her, and her face turned serious.

“If you weren’t here,” she said, “I don’t know that I would have… been comfortable enough to let him do that.”

“Glad I could… help with that,” Harvey said woodenly. “You and him.”

With her getting with someone else.

Right. Good. He couldn’t forget that. He was the solid ground, and she’d be flying any minute.

“Him and me and you,” said Sabrina, and Harvey remembered her aunt saying, _Sabrina’s primary suitor_.

“The day you asked me to look for a witch mark on you,” Harvey said. “I thought you wanted to—I thought you wanted me. And then when I found out the witch thing was real, I felt like the biggest fool in the world.”

“Harvey, I’m so sorry,” said Sabrina. “I did—I did want you.”

“With him,” said Harvey. “Is it… more?” He answered her before she could answer. “It’s more.”

Sabrina’s eyes were dark and troubled. “It’s different.”

Why had he even asked?

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Harvey said. “I’m sorry. You have enough to be thinking about, with the harbinger thing.”

The apocalypse mattered more than his love life. He’d read a lot of graphic novels about superheroes and he was clear on this.

“I always thought it would be you, when we were ready,” murmured Sabrina. “And, Harvey… I still do. I am.”

Harvey’s grip on her hand tightened. “’Brina, what do you mean?”

“Cousin!” called Ambrose. It sounded as though he was calling from the graveyard. “Auntie Z is looking like it’s witch hunter hunting season!”

They scrambled back toward the house. Ambrose headed in first, calling out, “Maybe she’s in my room… who can tell…” 

Sabrina got back up on the roof, this time with an assist from some of the ivy hanging from the sloping roof curling into convenient handholds. She ducked back inside her window, and waved. Harvey waved to her in return, and was about to get into his truck when she rapped on the glass and he turned.

“Harvey!” Sabrina called, her face bright, and undid the buttons on her cardigan. She was wearing a dark blue bra today. “This isn’t about needing to check for witch marks.”

Harvey got out his phone and texted, _If your aunt hears my voice she will kill me. I love you & you’re so beautiful. Don’t do any dark spells_.

Sabrina blew him a kiss. 

And that was lovely, but now Sabrina was with her family and when Harvey texted Theo, Theo was with Roz. Harvey didn’t ask if he could come. He’d had time with Theo this week, and Roz needed Theo too.

Some of the guys from last season’s basketball team played a pick-me-up game. Harvey drove on over to the makeshift court, chose the team that wasn’t Billy’s, and when the ball bounced off the court he caught it and said, “Hey, guys. Mind if I—”

“Hey there,” said Ed, and then called Harvey a name he’d heard before. Three letters.

Harvey smashed the ball back in his face. He expected Ed in his face the next minute, or Billy, but instead they all took a step back.

“Why are your eyes messed up?” asked Carl, his voice thin.

Harvey remembered the demons in the mines whispering, _We saw your light from the gates. Do you think you can save her? Or are you craving a fall?_

He turned around, got into his truck, flipped down the mirror and saw his eyes glowing like yellow headlamps. Then he shut them, with despair that felt like prayer, opened them to find them their usual worried hazel, and felt terrified and unworthy and uncertain about the cliff edge his life was hurtling toward.

And still lonely. 

\--

He drove home, stopping by the grocery store and then taking the long winding road through the deepest woods. Nothing eldritch happened to him, despite his faint hope it might, so he went back home. There were no lights in the windows, no life in the whole place. His house was cold, with echoes. 

Harvey jingled his keys before he put them back in his pocket, just to have some noise. 

Then he set to work and made a lasagna. He wasn’t the world’s best cook, but he tried to make it a little special. He’d bought dried herbs and looked up how to make white sauce on his phone.

He sang to himself, to fill up the silence. The air in the kitchen got filled up with warmth and savory smells, like living in a sauce-scented cloud. Once he was done washing up he opened the oven a little to check, and more savory steam escaped. Then he heard a faint sound and turned around to see Nick standing in the middle of his kitchen.

Doors and boundaries were a thing, but Nick looked tired and a little lost, and Harvey was glad to see him. Nick was clutching a large book of no doubt dark spells, with an eyeball set in the cover, as if it was a teddy bear. His curly hair was rumpled on one side, with a distinct air of having fallen asleep on his own arm at some point. Harvey walked over to him.

“Hey, there you are,” said Harvey, soft, reaching over to smooth his pretty hair and then leaning down to kiss him. “I missed you.”

When he leaned back, Nick was just staring at him, clearly in a daze. Seemed he was even more tired than Harvey had initially thought. 

“Come on, take off that fancy jacket,” Harvey coaxed. “You’re staying a while.”

He helped Nick with his jacket. Nick cooperated in a bewildered sort of way, more gesturing than actually getting his jacket off. Harvey went to put the jacket over the back of a chair, then turned and was mildly surprised to see Nick had trailed after him, maybe moving on autopilot at this point.

“That was the first time you’ve done that,” Nick observed, in a voice struggling to be neutral.

“I—what?” Harvey looked back over the last five minutes, trying to work out what Nick could mean. Taken off Nick’s jacket—not really noteworthy. Kissed Nick—he’d done that honestly a shocking number of times at this point. Then he realized. “Made you a lasagna? It’s been less than a week! You can’t have lasagna every night,” he added sternly.

Nick smiled faintly. “I feel like I could.”

Seemed like there was a lot being expected of the lasagna. Harvey, slightly worried, went to check on it again. Nick followed, hovering.

Harvey put his arm around Nick, babying him a little since he was out of it, and Nick melted against him, tucking his face into Harvey’s throat the way he did in bed.

“Wow, you must be so tired,” Harvey told the top of Nick’s head. 

Nick tipped back his head, face upturned and inclined, clearly seeking to be kissed again. Harvey kissed him again, still gentle but lingering a little more this time. He felt Nick’s faint smile return.

Then he deposited Nick firmly in a chair. “Sit, you’re worn out.”

Nick made a face, as though he didn’t appreciate sitting. 

“Do you just want to go to bed instead of eating?”

Nick raised his eyebrows, not too tired to be satanically amused.

“If you’re not talking about sleeping, then yes I want to go to bed,” he drawled. “If you’re talking about sleeping, then absolutely not, I want my lasagna.”

Harvey decided to treat Nick talking about sex like other people talking about the weather or making a joke. It was making conversation, for witches. 

“Okay, lasagna.”

“What were you singing, before?” Nick asked, leaning back in his chair.

It was still somewhat intimidating, to sing in front of someone else, but he’d done it for Nick before, and Nick liked to learn about mortals and perhaps right now was asking to be soothed.

So he sang while he grabbed the garlic bread, the song he’d been singing before and snatches of songs he could remember, while Nick tilted his chair further and idly sang back a few lines about not wanting to grow up and maybe being kids in love. 

“Baby, maybe we won’t, but maybe we will,” Nick sang, lazy and happy. He seemed to enjoy mortal music: Harvey was definitely going to ask him about the prospective band. 

When the lasagna seemed ready, Harvey pulled it out and was getting plates when Nick said, unexpected and slightly too loud, “I don’t have any answers. If that’s what this is about.”

“Sorry, what?”

Harvey brought over plates, then lasagna, as Nick said, “I didn’t find any solutions for Sabrina. Can I still—”

Nick wasn’t making any sense. Maybe it was because he was tired.

“Uh, can you still eat lasagna?” Harvey frowned. “Lasagna’s… not contingent on you performing academic miracles.”

Harvey knelt on the floor so he could figure out what on earth was going on. There was a look of strain as well as exhaustion on Nick’s face. In the end, Harvey just reached out and took hold of Nick’s arm. Nick was wearing a white button-down shirt because he was a fancy jerk that way, but the fabric was creased as though he’d slept in that too. Nick was a wreck because he’d stayed up all night and through today trying to help Sabrina. Harvey could only smooth the material a little, get the tense muscles under his hand to ease. Nick looked down at him uncertainly.

“Hey,” Harvey murmured. “I get the apocalypse is stressing you out, but try to relax. You need to eat and rest, and you can. That’s allowed.”

“Hm,” responded Nick, then eyed the lasagna. “And what are you going to eat?”

Harvey scoffed and rose, lightly cuffing at Nick’s head as he did so. He managed to save some lasagna for himself, but not much. Nick rained down total devastation upon the lasagna.

He hadn’t known, before, how witches were starved of so much outside the Spellman house.

“I’ll make it again,” he promised.

“Oh, good,” said Nick. “How long will that take?”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Another night, I meant.”

“Will the oppression of witch hunters never cease,” Nick grumbled. “Speaking of, your stupid father was home. You were pleased?”

Harvey bit his lip. “It’s complicated.” Explaining this was difficult. Everyone in Greendale knew how it was. “Dad doesn’t think much of me. So it’s hard sometimes. Knowing he’d just… rather I wasn’t there. But it’s better since Sabrina enchanted him not to drink. He tries now. It is what it is.”

“I think about getting a house sometimes,” said Nick.

“Whoa,” said Harvey. Nick could buy a house?

 _Slick, rich, and a looker_ , Stan had said. Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“I wouldn’t—I don’t like the idea of being there by myself.”

“Whoa!” said Harvey, in a very different tone. “Hold your horses there, buddy! You can’t ask Sabrina to move in with you! She’s sixteen! You haven’t been dating anywhere near long enough!”

“I wasn’t—how long does it have to be?”

“If anyone’s sixteen?” Harvey demanded. “Years.”

“Sure, that makes sense,” Nick grumbled. “Mortals absolutely have years to throw away, why not?”

“Don’t ask Sabrina to move in with you,” Harvey ordered. “She’s happy at home. Her house is special. She’s so welcome there, so wanted there, it’s like it was all built around her years and years before she was born.” He hesitated, in case it hurt, but he wanted to know witches besides the Spellmans had this kind of magic. “Have you ever felt welcome anywhere?”

Nick’s eyes lingered on him, considering. “Once or twice.”

That was good, that home had been happy before his parents died: Nick deserved that. Tommy said their home used to be different before their mom died, but Harvey had been too young to remember properly.

“Oh,” said Harvey. “I’m really glad.”

Nick looked away, mouth twisting in a way that struck Harvey as ironic. Harvey used to think Nick’s face didn’t naturally show emotion much, but now he wondered if it wasn’t the opposite: that his face naturally showed a lot, and he was always trying to keep it in check lest someone see and hurt him.

Harvey had never been able to control his own face, and Nick must have seen some of this on it. “What?” he asked sharply.

“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” Harvey said. “You’re safe.” 

Nick’s mouth pulled tight with a jerk for a moment. “You’re safe too. I promised Sabrina I’d look after you, and I always will. Don’t worry.”

Because Harvey was in such enormous need of protection, and they all thought so. Sabrina had said that was why they couldn’t be together, back in December.

“Right,” said Harvey woodenly, and got up and cleared the table.

“What’s bothering you?” 

Nick leaned against the sink, voice turned sharp.

“Nothing,” said Harvey. “It’s just—my dad’s always calling me a coward, and the guys at school, and Sabrina always talking about protecting me. It all adds up.”

It all added up to him, not adding up to much.

“You were talking about me being safe a minute ago. You tried to protect us all when the angels came, including Sabrina. Isn’t it good to protect each other?”

The tone of Nick’s voice was indulgent, letting the mortal play pretend, not taking him entirely seriously. And Nick hadn’t been left or sneered at, because he was weak.

But it was true. Harvey did believe in protecting each other. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“So no more running off to fight demons without telling anyone but Theo,” Nick instructed. “Do you have any idea how angry I am about that! You couldn’t ask me to come with you? You saw me that morning!”

“I saw the demon after,” Harvey explained. “Then I went to school and asked Theo. It’s not like I can text you.”

Nick sighed. “I’ll enchant a pen for you. Will you use it?”

He’d turned down magic pencils from Sabrina, once. He didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

“Yeah,” said Harvey. “Thanks.” He felt he should reciprocate. “Would you like my phone number? I guess it wouldn’t be much use to—”

Nick lit up, which was weird of him. Books, lasagna, and phone numbers: the things that made him happy were so strange. “Yes I would.”

His eyes went hooded, and he leaned in against Harvey. 

“You seem really tired,” said Harvey, concerned. “How about getting some sleep?”

Nick looked annoyed. “Witches do not go to bed before midnight. I need to finish reading.”

Harvey considered Sabrina and Roz’s studying tricks.

“How about taking a shower to wake up, then?”

Nick shot him a gleaming look from under his lowered eyelids. “Do I need to go in the shower all by myself?”

Sex talk from witches, Harvey reminded himself. Just the equivalent of a hilarious joke, or saying the weather’s keeping fine.

“You sure do.” Harvey shoved him toward the bathroom door. 

He fixed tea and snacks for studying after, then went to his drawing desk. He could think better there. The apocalypse might be coming, Sabrina seemed set on this mandrake spell, and Nick might have a nervous breakdown trying to avoid it.

How could Harvey make any of that better? He ran through stuff that seemed to be bothering Nick in his mind.

It was insane, but… since Nick had slept with Ambrose and only learned that wasn’t exactly the done thing when he wanted to date Sabrina, possibly he was concerned Harvey would make the same mistake? Again, insane, but since for witches sex was like shaking hands…

Nick came out of the shower dressed, which was considerate of him. He made a pleased sound about the tea, and Harvey cleared his throat.

“I can’t imagine why I have to say this, but… I promise I’ll never sleep with Ambrose Spellman.” 

That did seem to please Nick.

“Well, there’s no reason to be hasty,” said Nick, taking up his cup so he could hide a smile behind it. “In time when everything’s settled down a little, something could be arranged.”

Harvey tried to think of a casual manner of conveying that the way witches slept with people at the drop of a pointy hat terrified him. 

“Not my scene,” said Harvey, desperately.

“But…” said Nick. “Even mortals have exceptions, right? I’ve heard about the concept of a ‘boys’ night’…? And a ‘girls’ night’? I know Sabrina does those. Where the boys and girls are meant to go off and have same-sex fun, yes?”

“Yes… No! That’s not what that means!” 

“Really?” asked Nick. “But the inference seems so obvious…”

“Dudes usually get together and, like, watch a sport,” Harvey explained.

Nick made a face.

“Theo and I read graphic novels mostly,” Harvey offered.

Nick made another face. “Can I read real books?” 

“Okay, nerd,” said Harvey, fond. 

Nick’s face brightened. He pushed his wet hair off his brow and advanced toward the drawing desk. “Thanks for making concessions about Ambrose. You’re a sweet mortal, when you want to be. Sabrina will be glad.”

“I don’t think ’Brina was super worried I was going to sleep with her cousin,” Harvey said, with asperity. “But if you’re glad, that’s good.”

Nick’s smugness suffused the room. “So this is for me.”

“Yeah. Idiot.”

Nick leaned on the other side of the desk, folding his arms, leaning his chin against his folded arms, and looking at Harvey. “You said you never flirted with anybody.”

“And I don’t!”

“Last summer…” said Nick. “I thought you were flirting with me.”

“Um,” Harvey said. “We met in December…? You’re probably thinking of someone else.”

“At the summer fair,” Nick said. “You and Sabrina went on the Ferris wheel.”

“And you were lurking around?” Harvey despaired. “Oh, Nick, why are you always lurking?”

“It helps me know what’s going on. The wolves taught me to surveil territory. I wanted to see Edward Spellman’s daughter. And you were there, painting children’s faces.”

He had been. He remembered the spinning lights on the wheel and the Hall of Mirrors, and the kids giggling because the brushes tickled them. He’d got tips from the parents, and added the money to the fund for Sabrina’s birthday present. There had been a lady with cool lavender hair! And… a boy with a fancy jacket and terrible hair gel… who he’d struck up a conversation with…

“Oh my God,” said Harvey. “More memory charms! How many have there been! That’s three already! How am _I_ ever supposed to know what’s going on, when people keep messing with my brain?”

“That’s all,” Nick soothed. “As far as I know, I suppose the Spellmans could have been doing it your whole life. I didn’t know you didn’t like them! I was being considerate. You seemed upset.”

“Because you were the least convincing mortal in the world,” said Harvey. “And… wait, you thought I was what?”

“Flirting with me. You with your puppy eyes, and your terrible hair and terrible clothes trying to hide that you’re handsome.” Nick’s voice was distinctly affectionate. “It worked. I kept trying to get you to do it again.” 

“I’m what?” Harvey asked. “You what? Nick, this is a lot to process all at once. I wasn’t flirting the first time!”

“You asked me if I was single!”

“Oh…” Harvey said. “Yeah, I did… do that… I was thinking… you seemed nice, and it would be great if… you dated Roz… Because she deserved to be with someone… nice…”

Harvey didn’t hit it off with other guys a lot. Maybe this was why. He stared at the poster on his bedroom wall without seeing it.

“Well,” Harvey said eventually. “Funny how that worked out.”

Nick laughed, levered himself up on one elbow and leaned across the drawing desk for a bright little kiss. “Yeah. I went back to the Academy and broke up with my girlfriends that day.”

“You broke up with Prudence?” Harvey stared. “Jesus, Nick, way to take your life in your hands!” 

“I’m flattered you’re turning down someone sexy for me, farm boy,” said Nick. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“Who—oh, Ambrose. Do you think—” Clearly, Nick did, on account of how Nick had… “I don’t really think of many people that way,” Harvey said helplessly.

It wasn’t the bad kind of helpless. He was glad Nick was pleased, even if all this was bewildering. The kiss, with Nick’s laugh still on his lips, had been lovely.

Nick moved around the desk, getting between Harvey and his art supplies, then sliding onto the desk so they were at the same eye level. This close, he could feel the heat of Nick’s skin through his thin shirt, clinging a little because of the damp. Nick hadn’t done up all his buttons.

“How about me?” Nick asked in a low, coaxing voice. “What do you think of me?”

Wow, this jerk. He was doing this on purpose. It was so blatant, but it was also sort of working. 

“Well…” Harvey said. Nick’s black eyes slid over him.

“Spellman told me that you said you liked me.” Nick pulled Harvey in by his shirt, so they were even closer. “A lot.”

Right, he’d said that, when he was trying to convince Sabrina to let Nick have his freedom. And it was true, but there was something crucial Harvey was trying to recall.

Well. Since it was true.

“I do like you a lot,” Harvey said, and Nick smiled. 

Harvey smiled back at him and, since he was clearly more than welcome, leaned in. Nick’s smiling mouth was soft and warm, tongue curling against his like his fingers were curling around the nape of Harvey’s neck, drawing him in closer again.

“To be clear,” Nick whispered, nuzzling. “You think I’m sexy.”

Harvey took a deep breath of the warm air between their mouths and said, voice breaking, “Y-Yeah.”

“Took you long enough,” murmured Nick.

“Wow, I need to take a while, okay, you’re such a jackass!” 

Harvey shoved Nick, since Nick was entirely secure on the drawing desk and deserved it. Nick took Harvey’s face in his hands and kissed him, sudden and unexpectedly deep. As if he really wanted to. As if he really meant it. 

“It was worth waiting,” Nick murmured.

He pulled his hands through Harvey’s hair and then grasped his shirt again, drawing him in. Harvey was now standing in between Nick’s thighs, pressed right up against each other, and the kissing was—messy, in a way that sent something like a pang and something like heat right through him. Almost pain, but sweet. Harvey set his palms flat against the drawing desk—how was he ever meant to use it for drawing again—because otherwise he would have touched Nick.

Right then Harvey remembered that witches were in it for the celestial sex magic.

“Oh God,” said Harvey.

“Mmm, yes,” Nick purred. “Call on the false god all you like.”

“This is important,” Harvey said in a rush, while Nick attempted to continue kissing him, as if it couldn’t be that important, but Harvey persevered, “About the—angelic sex powers…”

Good, okay, he’d said the most horrifying words! He could hear Theo cackling about Heaven’s Greatest Love Machine in his mind but that didn’t matter. The important point was, Nick was obviously at this time making a pretty determined play to get in on the whole celestial business, and Harvey had to explain it wouldn’t be happening, and then Nick would take Sabrina up on her offer of an open relationship, and the matter would be solved. It would be for the best if there were no more confusing seduction attempts from someone who didn’t even like him. 

Nick’s sliding-closed eyes opened. “No,” he said urgently, “Don’t use those!”

Harvey, who’d been gearing up for his whole explanation for why he wouldn’t, felt somewhat taken aback. “Wait, why not?”

“I appreciate the offer, farm boy, I really do.” 

It was imperative Harvey clarify that he’d made no such offer, but it was also impossible to do when Nick was kissing the side of his mouth in what seemed to be an apology, then sliding his lips along Harvey’s jaw until Nick’s mouth was at his ear. A jolt shook Harvey, and words fell out of reach.

“Another time,” Nick promised, sounding slightly breathless. “I want you to enjoy yourself, and I can’t make sure of that if I’m blissed out of my mind.” He bit Harvey’s ear, teeth stinging his earlobe. “I want you to _really_ enjoy yourself.” 

_It did make me feel really good,_ Sabrina’s sinking whisper said in his mind. Harvey’s mind bolted like a panicking horse.

“So, no angel magic!” he said loudly. “And as Sabrina said, you can sleep with Dorian!”

Nick eased back, blinking. “Dorian?”

“Or whoever,” said Harvey. “I just thought—the Dorian situation seemed pretty obvious.”

“I would have thought so myself, but Sabrina seemed surprised about it,” Nick murmured. “Oh well. Is this… you being worried about Dorian? I haven’t touched him since February.”

“Nicholas Scratch, it is March!”

“See, it’s been ages,” said Nick encouragingly. “And even that was transactional. I wanted him to let Sabrina into his club, so…”

Nick shrugged. Harvey had dark thoughts about Dorian. Had the man never heard of normal cover charges? 

“Another ‘comfort’ situation?” Harvey asked, then heard the edge in his voice. “Never mind. What I’m saying is, you don’t have to feel—bound—no! Restricted, and so like you have to—if you wanted to make an exception for Dorian, or anyone else—”

“What about Roz?” Nick asked, coolly. 

He leaned away. Harvey took a hasty step backward, mirroring Nick’s wishes.

“Don’t think you’ll have a lot of luck with Roz. I mean, um, you can ask her.”

“Since she was about to kiss you yesterday,” clarified Nick, “do _you_ want an exception for Roz?” 

Where did Nick come up with this stuff? First Ambrose and now this? Harvey was scandalized.

“She definitely wasn’t!”

“She absolutely was,” said Nick. “Not that I care. Witches don’t experience jealousy, obviously. But I saw Sabrina when she witnessed you and Roz being together that first time, and you didn’t. She was badly upset. Who’s to say you won’t lose control of yourself and be all in love again? I don’t think you should risk upsetting Sabrina.”

“Nick, you don’t understand,” said Harvey. “I’ve loved Roz my whole life. I trust her. She loves Sabrina. She would never. Plus, she dumped me. She doesn’t want me anymore.”

“Oh, she does.”

“And I wouldn’t do that,” said Harvey. “I don’t break my word. I’m not like you—”

“No, you’re not like me,” Nick snarled. “I don’t want to hear any more about how much you love Roz. I’m not the one who changed his mind and suddenly flung his heart at some mortal girl. I don’t intend to ever love anybody but Sabrina.”

This was ridiculous. Was Harvey actually getting accused of being fickle by someone who thought three weeks was an impossibly long dry spell?

Harvey gritted his teeth. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Witches approach things differently, I know. That’s what I meant, so--”

“So you’re pushing me at Dorian?” Nick asked. “Didn’t realize I was bothering you. Sorry.”

He slid off the desk and shoved Harvey on his way past, then scooped up his book and settled on the bed to read.

This had gone wrong somewhere. “You’re not bothering me. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Like a mortal could upset me,” drawled Nick, not looking up from his book. “Must catch up on my reading. This is for Sabrina, so it’s more important.”

More important than Harvey. Well, yeah. That made sense. Also, they had to try and stop the gates of hell opening and chaos swallowing the world. 

He let Nick get on with his reading. Eventually, without looking at him, Nick got undressed and got into bed.

Now they had to share the same bed while Nick was mad at him. Awkward. Harvey gave serious thought to sleeping on the floor, but that might be taken wrong as well, so eventually he climbed in, stared uneasily at Nick’s hostile turned back, and fell asleep at the edge of his own bed.

\--

The night was broken by the sound of a scream. Harvey did fall off the bed, but that couldn’t matter because Nick was making a terrible sound, half growl and half howl and nothing human, cowering and lashing out under the covers like a wounded animal. Harvey climbed immediately back into the bed, dodging blanket-covered blows until he could catch hold of Nick.

“Nick,” he said, getting one arm around him, stroking his hair with the other. “It’s me, it’s all right, you’re safe, wake up—”

Nick’s awful, wounded noises became words. “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t—”

“Hush, you don’t have to,” promised Harvey. 

Nick burrowed his head down against Harvey’s collarbone. Nick’s breath was coming in shudders that wracked his whole body, but eventually it eased.

Eventually, Nick said in a blurry voice, “Farm boy?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Not that you ever use my actual name, but. You know me.” 

“But why are you—” Nick looked confused, pulling back a few inches across the sheets. “I was being a dick before, so why are you being nice to me?”

“Wow, Nick,” said Harvey. “It doesn’t matter if we were fighting, I still want you to be okay. Happy,” he added, soft. 

Nick said, “Oh.”

He tried to think of what had made Nick happy before. Phone numbers? Weird promises.

“I will not sleep with Roz,” said Harvey, who couldn’t believe he—who slept with nobody!—had to keep saying he wouldn’t sleep with people he obviously wasn’t going to sleep with. “I promise. I won’t kiss her, either. Not that she was going to kiss me, because she wasn’t!”

“She was,” grumbled Nick, but he reached out and traced the skin above the collar of Harvey’s T-shirt in a forgiving manner. “All right. It’s not that I would care, but Sabrina—”

“I understand,” said Harvey. “What did you dream?”

Nick shook his head, looking at Harvey and sharing the same pillow. He lay there seeming tranquil, but also seeming a little smaller than usual, with all his swagger ripped away. Well, Harvey supposed it would be difficult to have swagger in bed. 

“Is there anything I can do to comfort you,” said Harvey, helpless. “Um, actual comfort! Since that word has now become confusing!”

Nick paused, then suggested, “Take your shirt off.”

“Um,” said Harvey. “What?”

“I think I would find that comforting,” Nick told him.

Harvey didn’t see why he would! As Nick had pointed out before, shirtless dudes were like wallpaper to him, they were just background in the witch world. Was that it—would it be comforting because it was familiar? 

On the other hand… it was kind of flattering to be asked, the same way it had been when he thought Sabrina might like him to, the day he searched for a witch mark. And Nick was shirtless. Nick often was, but… fair was fair.

Softly, Nick said, “You don’t have to—”

Unfortunately, at the same time, Harvey said, “Okay.”

“Great,” responded Nick swiftly. “I mean, good. I mean, okay.”

Harvey crushed down nerves, pulled off his shirt fast, and threw it on the floor. There was a brief silence, in which Harvey studied his blue plaid bedclothes. When he eventually glanced up, Nick was just looking at him, his face unguarded the way it had been the time when he’d been drunk.

Harvey wore less at the beach and definitely less in the changing rooms, but this was… a different context. Roz had seemed to appreciate the abs, but Nick had abs of his own. Better ones. As an artist, Harvey could aesthetically appreciate--actually, he'd just told Nick he was sexy, so that probably wasn't aesthetic appreciation, but he didn't know how much anyone would appreciate substandard wallpaper. He wasn’t sure what Sabrina had thought, back then.

He didn’t know what Nick thought now. Maybe he could just pull up the blanket a little more…

“No, don’t!” Nick said, then lowered his voice. “Please. Let me look at you.”

“Anyway.” Harvey cleared his throat, shy. “You’ve obviously seen many shirtless dudes before, so—”

“Not one who’s mine,” Nick answered absently, as though his mind was elsewhere. He reached out and traced the curve of Harvey’s bare shoulder, lightly, then glanced up swiftly to check that was okay.

It was okay. Harvey was hesitantly pleased that Nick didn’t seem disappointed. 

“Well, but your rea—other boyfriends?” Harvey suggested.

Nick smiled, crooked. At certain angles he looked like a darkly romantic hero and at others he looked distinctly goofy, which was a bit of a relief as Harvey had several goofy angles himself. 

“You’re my first.” 

Harvey was beginning to believe he’d got things slightly wrong. Undoubtedly, Nick had massive amounts of sexual experience, as he would distressingly inform everyone, but it was possible he didn’t have much romantic experience? It seemed likely, given that Nick had actually once asked Harvey about dating tips for Sabrina. If he’d only dated the Weird Sisters and Sabrina, well… probably dating Prudence was just the sexy Hunger Games where you couldn’t rebel and hoped you survived. So Nick had only really dated Sabrina, who he was very into. So Harvey guessed it made sense… that Nick thought acting as though you were very into someone was normal dating behavior. Even if, as previously established, you didn’t have a crush at all.

Maybe Nick thought it was only polite? Maybe it was! Harvey didn’t know!

“Don’t be worried, farm boy,” Nick coaxed, sliding across the sheets toward him, fingers in Harvey’s hair. He dropped a few kisses on his face, sweet, light, happy almost: kisses like questions asked while smiling.

Harvey smiled back, and Nick took that as the encouragement it was to slide in against him, mouths fitting together, heads tilting against the pillow. 

Kissing someone on a bed like this, skin against skin… Well, that felt a little different. Harvey remembered, with Sabrina, having his hands at his sides uncertain if he could touch, and feeling an awkward fool later. So he let a hand settle on Nick’s back, not to soothe but just to feel the sleek shift of muscle under skin. Nick made a small, terribly pleased sound and set his hands against Harvey’s waist, then drew them up over stomach, ribs, nipples—Harvey started at the little electric flicker of that, did dudes… back to Harvey’s face, tilting it aside so he could nuzzle his throat. Harvey turned back and caught Nick’s mouth, and Nick said, “Can I go—”

“You’re always asking to go somewhere,” Harvey whispered back. “And, yeah.”

“Yes?” Nick smiled, wolfish.

“Sure, we can go to the mortal library if you want,” said Harvey, indulgent. “Not now, though. It’s like, midnight.”

Nick leaned his forehead down against Harvey’s collarbone and said, “I can’t take much more of this.”

“Uh—you don’t want to go to the library?”

Nick lifted his head. “I do, little mortal, and thanks for thinking of it, but—how do I put this—what I am asking right now is if you would like some… comfort.” He smiled that wicked smile again.

“I’m not unhap… oh!” said Harvey.

“Oh,” Nick repeated, with a different inflection. 

Turned out you could have swagger in bed, after all.

“That’s okay,” said Harvey, who definitely didn’t have swagger at any time and whose heart was beating so loud in his ears he could barely hear anything else. “Thanks.”

“Sure?” asked Nick. “I’m not asking for reciprocation, and I’d like to. Very much.” He dipped his head down and kissed Harvey again, sucking at his tongue, then ending the kiss with a small suggestive bite. “I thought about it,” he continued, in a low, contemplative voice. “I would have gone down on my knees for you in the church. In front of all the angels. I would have--” 

His hands slid downward.

“Wow,” Harvey said in a strangled voice. “Can we cool it with the sexy blasphemy for a second?”

“It wouldn’t count as sex for a ritual,” Nick offered.

His blood was racing in his veins, but also seemed to be shivering in his veins too. He wasn’t sure blood should do that.

“It would count for me,” said Harvey. “God, I don’t know how to talk about this, when guys are supposed to be like, oh yeah, please, and I would be if… I want to be in love. And besides, I’m totally out of my depth here, and you can say all this stuff, because it’s not taboo for you and it’s easy to say, and I can’t…”

Nick stilled, and bit his lip. “All right,” he said. “You take the lead.”

Harvey frowned, confused and close to troubled. 

“It was just a suggestion,” Nick continued. “Don’t—don’t look unhappy. You do that too much and I hate it. I understand what you’re telling me. There are things I’ve heard that mortals say that I’ve never dreamed of saying in my life, you don’t have to do or say anything witches do and say. Do whatever you want. Do nothing if you want. I want you to be glad like you were before. That was nice.”

Harvey considered the matter. Then he slowly reached down and took hold of one of Nick’s wrists, careful as he used to when he bound them, and lifted it up over their heads.

“Oh?” There was a thrilled undercurrent in Nick’s voice.

Harvey kept hold of Nick’s wrist, lightly pressed against the pine headboard. “Oh nothing, for God’s sake, it’s just a reminder not to—”

Nick curved his free hand around the nape of Harvey’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss, sighing a promise. “I won’t do anything unless you tell me to.”

He slanted a dark laughing look up at Harvey. 

“Nicholas _Scratch_ ,” said Harvey. “Fine! Do as I tell you, then. Say one of the mortal things you’ve never said. Try being out of your depth. Go on. Try it.”

He threw a challenging look back at Nick, and kept Nick’s wrist pinned. Nick didn’t fight him. Instead he slid his arm around Harvey’s neck and brought him closer, so Harvey was hovering over him waiting to hear what Nick would say.

In a drowning voice, turning his head against the pillow, a flush rising on the side of his face, Nick said: “Be gentle with me.” 

“Yeah,” Harvey murmured, leaning down, kissing him again. “I can do that.”

That was what he did, making out among the tumbled blue bedsheets until the stars faded and they did too, falling asleep with Nick curled against him and seeming content. 

\--

Harvey woke to find Nick sleeping on his arm. By daylight, the situation seemed more real and close to alarming, but he didn’t want to disturb Nick. When he moved, Nick made a fretful sound, which was sweet. Nick’s hair always got so wrecked during the night.

It was more wrecked than usual this morning, though.

“Hey, I’m just getting up,” said Harvey. “It’s late. Want coffee?”

“Yes,” murmured Nick. “Much later.”

He opened one eye and glanced at the window, then scrunched up his face and looked at Harvey. 

“It’s a slightly more acceptable time than usual,” he conceded. “No horrible mines?”

“No, it’s Sunday,” said Harvey. “People are going to church.” He figured a witch might need more explanation, so he added: “Some call Sunday the day of rest.”

“Do they?” Nick asked. “My people call this day the day of idle hands.”

“Nicholas, they do not!”

Nick laughed, turned his head, and kissed Harvey’s shoulder. “I promise they do. Don’t get out of bed. Come here, or else.”

“Or what?” Harvey asked, amused.

“Or I’ll say a terrible witch thing,” Nick threatened. “Such as, I want to—”

Harvey threw the blankets over his own head. 

“Oh, no. Where’s my mortal?” Nick drew the blanket back. “Ah, there he is.”

He leaned in. 

Then a voice outside the door called brightly, “Harvey?”

“’Brina?” Harvey called back, worried, while Nick murmured, “Spellman,” with every sign of pleasure.

Harvey fished on the floor for his shirt, while Nick stretched and lay back on the pillows.

“Get up,” Harvey commanded.

“Let me present to you an alternative option,” said Nick. “You go get her. Tell her I’m in here. Bring her in too.”

“Um,” said Harvey.

“Nothing you won’t like,” Nick promised. “But she deserves to relax. We can… go on a picnic. Do any mortal thing. Bring her in. We can discuss it. Be comfortable. If she wants to kiss you, or you want to kiss her… I can just watch. I won’t touch her or you. Unless I’m told.”

He smirked. Harvey threw a pillow at his face. 

“God,” he said. “Look. I mean—I’m sure she’ll be pleased you’re here.” 

Should Harvey offer to leave? 

Should he… not leave?

“I’ll talk to her,” Harvey said.

“Great,” said Nick. “I love talking.”

Harvey spun and left his own bedroom, turned bewildering, to enter the hall. 

’Brina turned, her hand against one of the beams. She was wearing a smock dress and flat shoes, dressed in a way that reminded Harvey of her a few years ago, and she was looking around with an oddly vacant expression on her face.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mandrakes and dance clubs, oh my. I am sad at the thought of CAOS coming to an end--I'd love more show and more books--but glad for my lovely and kind commenters! Happy Halloween.

Sabrina’s face changed when she caught sight of him, and pure delight filled her brown eyes.

“Harvey!” she beamed, and ran to him with her hands outstretched. 

Harvey caught the hands in his, and kissed them. Sabrina gave a happy sigh and slid her arms around his waist, giving him a big hug. Slightly puzzled but pleased, he put his arms around her thin shoulders and hugged her back. She nuzzled against his chest.

“Harvey, you’re wearing your shirt inside out,” she told him. “You are _so_ silly. But I love you lots and lots.”

“Oh?” Harvey said, amused. “I love you lots, as well.”

“I want you to love me the most in the world,” Sabrina told him, with the air of a bargaining child.

She was in a funny humor today, but it was adorable. Harvey smiled down at her hairband and her ruffled hair. “What do you know,” he said, soft. “I do.”

Sabrina rubbed her cheek against his shirt. “You’re my Harvey. I would like to eat Aunt Hilda’s pancakes for every meal and see you every minute of every day. What do you think?”

“If you ate pancakes for every meal?” Harvey asked. “I think you’d get scurvy.”

Sabrina seemed briefly confused, then waved this off and hugged him tighter. “I love you!”

“I love you too,” said Harvey.

“Nobody shall take you away again,” proclaimed Sabrina. “When Roz tried to, I thought about dropping a ceiling on her head.” 

Her hands made little fists, in the space between them.

Harvey was aghast. “’Brina, no you didn’t!” 

“I didn’t do it, though,” said Sabrina. “I’m not sure why. Because I love Roz, I think. Yes, that must be it. I love her, and I feel comfy cozy with her. She won’t be taking you away again. She’ll be good now. She should love me the best. And you should love me the best.”

That was a lot. Harvey wondered if possibly there were still party drugs at Sabrina’s house, and she’d been trying to relax. He supposed this was a stressful time. 

Sabrina stared up at him accusingly. “Harvey! Do you not love me?”

“I love you with all my heart,” said Harvey, and Sabrina hummed approval. 

“You’re so nice, Harvey. And tall and lovely, and you give perfect hugs, and your voice makes me feel good even over the phone. When you weren’t with me I was so, so, so sad all the time. I cried and cried on the steps and Aunt Zelda held me so I wouldn’t fall to bits. But now everything is right again. I will marry you.”

Okay, she was high.

“Sounds good,” said Harvey tenderly, and detached her from his waist. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you a coffee.”

“Five sugars,” proposed Sabrina. “No… ten.”

“Sabrina, first you’ll get scurvy and then you’ll need a dentist.”

“I will not need a dentist!” said Sabrina. “I can do magic. Lots and lots of magic. I will kill the dentist.”

“Jesus, ’Brina!”

Sabrina gave him a suspicious look. “Do you love the dentist?” 

“No…” said Harvey. “I don’t love the dentist.”

“You love _me_.”

“I love you,” Harvey confirmed. 

She threw her arms around him again for another exuberant hug. “Let’s spend the whole day on the sofa just telling each other that we love and love each other.”

“Okay,” Harvey murmured. “I’d like that. But first, very important—coffee.”

Was Nick going to be okay with today’s plan? Maybe he would be. He’d definitely be pleased about the coffee. Harvey should probably make a lot. He tried to move toward the kitchen, but Sabrina was clinging like a limpet.

“Let’s be together always. Just you and me forever and ever.”

“Well,” said Harvey, “that would be great, except… what about Nick?”

Sabrina pouted, and Harvey felt a sinking sensation. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Did he… do something to upset you?”

“He makes me feel funny,” said Sabrina. “He’s one of the popular boys—not the awful real ones, but the ones in movies with the letterman jackets and the killer smiles. You dream about how fun it would be, but that’s fake. Like the heart.”

“Like the what? I don’t think Nick owns a letterman jacket,” said Harvey. “But… I’m sure he would get one, if you wanted him to.”

Sabrina wrinkled her nose. “Why is he so nice to me? Do I _trust_ him? No, I won’t think about him. I trust Auntie Hilda. I trust Cousin Ambrose. I trust you. Wait, you kiss him now! Stop that!”

She stared up at Harvey. 

“Um,” said Harvey, feeling guilty and then cross about it, this absolutely hadn’t been his idea. “I thought you were fine with it. I thought you were happy.”

“No!” said Sabrina angrily. “You must love only me. Don’t you?”

Harvey took a step back, letting her hands fall at her sides. She stared at him in betrayal.

Gently, Harvey said, “Let’s get you that coffee—”

Sabrina lifted her hands, and Harvey realized to his incredulous dismay that she was going to use magic on him, and he could never fight against her. Not ’Brina.

“ _Siccabitur_!” shouted Nick from Harvey’s bedroom door, and Sabrina recoiled with a teakettle-high shriek. 

Nick advanced, with a sinister look on his face.

“You are a bad boy!” Sabrina exclaimed, nursing her hand. She stamped her foot, and fled, slamming the door behind her.

“Nick,” Harvey said faintly, “what the hell? What was going on with Sabrina—”

“That wasn’t Sabrina,” Nick said, his voice grim. “That was a mandrake. I thank the Dark Lord that spell worked, I found it in an obscure book on herblore and I wasn’t sure it would. And it only works on mandrakes less than a day old, who haven’t yet reached their full power. Sabrina put all her magic in that creature, and now the mandrake is on the loose, so we’re screwed and—”

“—And Sabrina’s somewhere with no magic,” concluded Harvey, and offered Nick his hand. “Quick, teleport us to the Spellman house!” 

Nick grabbed his wrist and the world whirled away. Harvey would have been amazed, if he’d had time. Instead he blinked away the darkness, finding himself at the foot of Sabrina’s stairs. 

“You search downstairs, I’ll search upstairs, if neither of us find her, meet back here in five,” Harvey said, and on Nick’s nod he charged up the double staircase. 

Sabrina wasn’t in her room, but behind the next door Harvey heard a scream and a splash. He threw himself at the bathroom door, and burst through to see some sort of horrible scarecrow creature stooped over Sabrina’s bath. He couldn’t tell if it was drowning or strangling her. All he knew was pure righteous wrath running through him like a channel of flame.

He lifted a hand. The bathroom was painted gold. The scarecrow turned to black ash, and Sabrina’s bathwater to mist.

The next minute, he was wrapping a white fluffy bathrobe around Sabrina, as she clung to him. “Harvey,” she said, still choking.

“Ah, Harvey,” said Nick from the door, and Harvey’s blood ran cold at the name. “I see you saved the day.” 

Harvey stared over at Nick, his face far more saturnine than usual as he stood by the door alone. Nick stared at Sabrina, shivering in Harvey’s arms.

“You promised you wouldn’t do that spell and turn yourself mortal, Spellman,” Nick said, in a distant voice. “I thought good people didn’t lie, but everybody does. I can’t even be mad.”

Harvey thought, with chilly certainty, _I should not be here_. If he hadn’t been here, Nick would’ve rescued Sabrina, and been too relieved and concerned for her safety to be mad. Because Nick was, most certainly, mad.

“Nick,” said Sabrina. “I’m sorry I lied but I was trying to do something good, to save the world. Now you have to help me, because—”

“Do I?” said Nick. “I don’t know that I do, actually. No, it looks like you and your precious mortal have this covered. Excuse me. I have somewhere to be.”

He made the gesture for teleporting, and vanished clean away. Sabrina stared at the place Nick had stood in shock.

“I think he’s just a bit shaken up, since the mandrake came to my house,” said Harvey. “You should go after him, ‘Brina.”

Sabrina shook her head. “I can’t. I have to stop the mandrake. And—Ms Wardwell is evil, I have to stop her, I’ve been so stupid—”

“Ms Wardwell is what!”

Sabrina shook her head, damp hair going fluffy around her face. “I see it all now. She egged me onto—onto resurrecting Tommy, into signing the Book, into all my mistakes, it was her fault—”

“How could it be?” Harvey demanded. 

“I’ll explain later. Where do you think the mandrake will go next? She came to you, so she follows my heart--”

“The Academy?” Harvey asked. 

“No,” Sabrina answered instantly. “If she’s not here at home, or with you, then she has to be with—”

“—Roz and Theo,” Harvey said, realization dawning. “Oh, God.”

Sabrina put her face in her hands. “Harvey, can you go to them? I—I need to find Ambrose, he’ll help me with Ms Wardwell and the mandrake—”

Harvey still didn’t know what Sabrina meant about Ms Wardwell, but there was no time, if the mandrake was coming for Roz and Theo next. He nodded, bent to kiss Sabrina, and said: “I’m so glad you’re okay. Text me with updates about our… evil teacher... Go to Nick as soon as you can.”

“I can’t!” Sabrina said again. “Nick will understand. The fate of the world could be in the balance.” She chewed her lip. “Can’t you go to him?” Calm descended as she glowed with certainty. “Yes, that’s the answer. You go to him, talk him down, then both of you come back and help me.”

Harvey opened his mouth to argue that he couldn’t possibly.

Sabrina held up a hand. “First, get to Roz and Theo!”

Harvey pulled a hand through his hair, nodded and ran out of the door, already trying to call them. Nobody answered, so he ran through the woods to get back to his truck, texting and almost dropping his phone in his haste. ‘If u see Sabrina, she’s not Sabrina. Get away from her & come find me!’

Roz’s house was nearest, so he went to hers first. It was empty. Praying she was in church, Harvey drove to Theo’s.

Theo wasn’t there. And Theo didn’t go to church, any more than Harvey did. The committee had made it clear, with the reverend’s backing, that Theo wasn’t welcome.

Harvey thought about going back to Sabrina’s house, or to the Academy, but the mandrake had run out into the woods. Maybe she was still in them. Maybe he could find her there. He left his truck by the side of the road, and plunged through the trees. 

He called Sabrina’s name over and over again, his voice filtering up through the bare branches, into a sky already going darker blue. The days were still short, and cold. He missed summer, when his brother was alive and he believed he and Sabrina were forever. This morning had felt warm and bright, like a little sip of summer that left him wanting more, but it had been snatched away and left him stumbling through the witches’ woods in the chill air.

He kept calling, without much hope. At last he heard voices answering. Not the voices he’d been searching for, or the voices he’d expected, but beloved voices just the same.

“Harv!” 

“Harvey!”

“Theo!” Harvey shouted back. “Roz!”

He dashed toward the sound. Roz and Theo were stumbling down a hill, their boots sliding on leaf-strewn crumbling ground. There was green slime on Theo’s face and in his hair, and he was holding a small axe painted with green slime, too.

“Theo…” Harvey said, overcome by the weirdness of their lives. “You… Why?”

“Thanks for your text,” Theo told him. “I was out chopping wood when I got it. Since I’m the actual farm boy around here. So I hid the axe under my shirt and went to get my gun, but I was intercepted by bizarro Sabrina as I was crossing the farmyard. She said some super weird stuff—”

Harvey shook his head sadly. “Did she suggest getting married?”

“Uh, no,” said Theo. “She just exhibited extreme ignorance about trans life. And also made some strange comments about going to the ice-cream store and getting enough ice-cream to have baths in…?”

Harvey remained distressed. “Oh no. Chilly. And the other thing… not cool.”

Theo nodded.

“For me she suggested we have a sleepover and eat a mountain of candy popcorn,” said Roz. “I think she meant an actual mountain. And I touched her hand and I had a flash of the Cunning—she wasn’t Sabrina, but then again she was, but she was something else too, growing in the ground.”

“She kidnapped us and put us in the woods and put us in little plant cocoons and was growing plant replicas of us,” reported Theo, and Harvey boggled. “Extremely glad I had the axe. Hacked my way out of the cocoon, hacked Roz out, hacked apart our plant replicas. Got some plant goo in my mouth. Not living my best life. Never needed mouthwash so much.”

“You’re a badass, Theo,” said Harvey, and Theo beamed. 

There was indeed green slime between his teeth. Harvey was horrified as well as proud.

“Can’t believe freaky Sabrina didn’t make a plant clone of you,” said Theo. “Or... Several. You know what she’s like.”

“That wasn’t her!” said Harvey.

“I mean, no, but also yeah,” said Theo. “Nice to know she wants to hang out with us and not her witch friends when she’s a crazed plant.”

Roz made a little mouth movement that meant she was too kind and polite to agree with Theo out loud, but she agreed with Theo.

“Did she come after you, Harvey?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Harvey. “But Nick was there, so he came out my room and hexed her… which was… good…”

His voice died away under Roz’s stare.

“Right!” Theo exclaimed. “Roz doesn’t know Harv and Nick have sleepovers every night!”

“It’s not like it sounds! It’s for satanic reasons,” said Harvey. “I can’t explain, it’s personal to Nick.”

“Personal satanic reasons,” muttered Theo.

“Yes!” exclaimed Harvey.

Roz and Theo exchanged a look. Roz fixed Harvey with a different tender, worried look.

“I hope you understand that this is concern talking and not any remaining feelings,” she said. “Nick is clearly very smooth, and also sexy—I thought he must be from Sabrina’s descriptions, but I wasn’t really prepared for the charm offensive—”

“I don’t actually find him charming,” said Harvey. “Do you have a point?”

Other than the fact both of the girls Harvey had dated found Nick to be extremely sexy, much more so than they found him. And Harvey agreed with them, but it still hurt. 

Roz blinked, her face falling. 

“I’m sorry, Rosali—” Harvey began.

“Don’t call me that!” Roz snapped.

“I’m sorry,” Harvey said again, softly. 

He hadn’t meant to be a jerk, but apparently he’d been such a jerk he wasn’t even allowed to call her by his special name for her anymore.

“She’s just concerned Nick’s taking advantage of your trusting soul by telling huge, obvious lies about satanic reasons to get you into bed,” said Theo. “And so say all of us, except actually I don’t care right now. We have bigger problems! Why does Sabrina have a plant clone?”

“She was trying to get out of being a harbinger of hell, like in the mosaic,” said Harvey. “She gave it all her powers. Nick and I told her it wasn’t safe—”

“But she did it anyway because she's crazy, okay, checks out,” said Theo. “Okay, so Sabrina’s mortal now? And we have to… fight a plant clone with her powers… and there’s hell stuff…”

“Oh, uh, and Ms Wardwell is evil!” exclaimed Harvey. “Maybe. I didn’t fully understand that.”

“No!” Theo and Roz cried, as one. 

“Ms Wardwell runs our feminist book club!” Roz said. “Must feminist associations inevitably be betrayed from within by older white women?”

Theo and Harvey both shrugged helplessly. Roz looked as if she wished she had her own axe.

“Sounds like Sabrina needs us,” said Theo.

“Yeah, we have to help,” Harvey agreed. “Come this way with me, I’ll take you to the Spellmans’ in my truck.”

“And we’ll stop on the way for showers,” said Theo sternly. “This isn’t negotiable, Harv. Even Satan will not stop me from showering.” 

“Okay, if we’re stopping anyway let’s get you guys both guns,” suggested Harvey.

“Harvey!” cried Roz. “I can’t shoot! I was until recently completely blind!”

Hearing her scold him made him grin, and remember how she used to throw napkins and straws at him and Sabrina, and roll her eyes in a loving way. She’d been more polite since she was his girlfriend, and maybe that was another sign things were wrong. Not mean was great, polite wasn’t. Strangers were polite. He didn’t want Nick to be charming to him, either. He wanted to be closer to people, not further away.

“I’m sure you’ll be great, you’re great at everything,” Harvey told her.

Roz stared with her mouth slightly open.

“Ah, you remember who we’re dealing with, now you’re no longer thinking about the surprise abs and the even more surprise take-charge kissing,” said Theo. “Our Harvey. So sweet, so considerate, so supportive, so absolutely batshit insane.”

Harvey and Roz both glared at Theo. 

“That was a private conversation between us—” Roz began.

“The surprise what?” Harvey asked uncertainly. “Roz, if I was at all presumptuous—”

“You weren’t!” Roz looked as if she might cry.

“I’m sorry but the unexpected threesome was my event horizon,” Theo told them both. “I’ve snapped and can no longer be tactful about any of your terrible relationship decisions. Which way is the truck? None of this matters compared to evil plants and evil teachers and evil hell! Sorry, the last thing I said was kind of an oxymoron.”

“It was kind of a tautology,” Roz murmured.

“Let’s go get showers and guns,” Harvey decided. “This way.”

They all stumbled through the winter woods together. Roz was shivering, since she’d been kidnapped from her kitchen and not outside like Theo, so Harvey tentatively offered her his jacket. She looked at it for a long moment, then shrugged it on with a quiet, “Thanks.”

They all climbed into the truck, then Harvey started off down the road and said, “Oh, God. I have to drop you guys off at the Spellmans’, but then I need to find Nick. He was upset about mandrake Sabrina, and he ran off--”

Theo reached over and hit him in the head. “Evil plants and teachers and hell! No time for relationship drama.”

“Considering what’s up, we kind of need his magic,” said Harvey. “This is a lot to deal with. Besides…”

Nick was unhappy. Harvey had agreed to be partly responsible for Nick’s happiness. And even if he hadn’t, Harvey didn’t want Nick to be unhappy again. He wished Sabrina would go to Nick, the one Nick would really want to see, but the thought of nobody coming for Nick was horrible. He’d been all on his own, eating scraps. Harvey couldn’t bear the idea that Nick believed he was being denied scraps now.

“But, Harvey—” Roz began, and Harvey knew she was going to say something kind and wise and convincing. 

Harvey set his jaw. “I’m going.”

Before he dropped them off, he gave Roz a gun and then gently adjusted her all-wrong grip. She was so smart. She’d get the hang of it in no time. 

Theo ducked his head back in through the truck window when Roz was climbing the steps to the Spellmans’ porch.

“Are we sure we need to get Nick?”

It felt lousy to insist they did need Nick to come be useful. That wasn't the only reason Harvey was going. Harvey said in a low voice, “He’s upset.” 

“About what?” asked Theo. “Is he too chiseled? Is this because his eight-pack isn’t a twelve-pack?”

Harvey didn’t like disagreeing with Theo. He muttered, “Don’t talk like that about him.” 

“Look…” said Theo. “I don’t mean to be a jerk. It was kinda clear at Sabrina’s party and after that the guy has many feelings. But is Satan o’clock the time for a tantrum?”

There was nothing much Harvey could say to that. He just gritted his teeth, determined all the same.

Theo sighed. “Do you even know where Nick went?”

Where Nick would go, if he was upset and he couldn’t go to Harvey? The realization was so blindingly clear, Harvey had to shut his eyes for a minute.

“Yeah,” Harvey said, “I know.”

\--

Harvey strode into the dark alleyway, frightening an alley cat and a couple making out. He knocked on the hidden door of Dorian’s secret debauchery bar, and watched as a single, brick-sized vacancy was filled with Dorian’s suspicious green eyes. The outline of a door shimmered, but the door didn’t open.

“Yes?” said Dorian, his voice haughty.

“Hi,” said Harvey. “Do you, uh, remember me?”

“Nick’s mortal?” asked Dorian.

“Um…” said Harvey. “Yeah, I guess. Is, uh, Nick in there?”

Dorian snickered. “He’s here. And my, my, is he drunk! This is worse than last time. He’s told me some terribly interesting things. Is it true your girlfriend is resurrecting dead mice and creating plant doppelgangers of herself? Two pretty blond girlfriends. Have the four of you—”

“What?” Harvey asked blankly.

“I suppose not,” drawled Dorian. “Nick would be in a better mood. It’s dreadful since he fell in love. He’s such fun when he’s in a good temper, but being a little drunk thundercloud is boring. Caring about anything is so tedious. I gave up that nasty habit years ago.”

That was awful, and like too many things, it was awful for Nick specifically.

“If he’s your friend, you should care about him!”

“Says you,” yawned Dorian.

“And not let him get super drunk!”

“Are you aware of how bars work,” said Dorian. “If you want him taken care of so badly, go right ahead and take care of him yourself. He’s gagging for it.”

“Okay, let me in,” said Harvey.

“Excuse me, let you in?” Dorian’s voice was a thousand raised eyebrows. “Do you realize the bar is open! I couldn’t possibly!”

“It’s good to be responsible, except…” said Harvey. “It’s true I’m underage, but so is Sabrina, and you let her in—”

“Someone wearing flannel, in my bar?” demanded Dorian, clearly not listening. “I couldn’t bear the shame. I would have to sell up and flee to Monte Carlo.”

Harvey took a moment to process Dorian’s priorities. 

“Well, I can’t take off the flannel! I’m not wearing another shirt underneath!”

Dorian must be made to see reason.

“I don’t understand your problem,” said Dorian. “All I understand is, it’s not my problem! Ta ta now.” 

Harvey drew in a deep breath. “So you’re saying if I took off the flannel…?”

“We’ll just have to see,” said Dorian.

An expectant pause followed. Taking a deep breath wasn’t enough. Harvey had to gulp. At least he wouldn’t be cold when he took off his shirt, since the coming humiliation made him feel as though he was going to burst into flames. 

If he undid the buttons he’d lose his nerve, so he just pulled the shirt over his head, fighting desperately with the sleeves for a moment, and emerged. The cold air washed up his torso and he stood, wringing the shirt in his hands.

“Can I… can I come in now?”

The green eyes through the slit in the magic door widened.

“Oh, _hello_ ,” purred Dorian. “Perhaps the persistent fixation is starting to make a little bit more sense.”

“Will you please stop talking about mine and Sabrina’s relationship in that way!”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Please hang up your shirt with the umbrellas and other accessories. Then you may come in.”

Beside the doorway, a steel plate bristling with spikes slid into view. There were coats swinging from some of the spikes. There were also several alarming objects hung on the spikes, including something that looked like a bridle. But why would it be--? Surely horses weren’t allowed in the bar?

Sternly repressing thoughts of the sex demons dungeon, Harvey gingerly hung up his shirt on a spike. Then he watched sorrowfully as the steel plate slid away, and his shirt vanished from view.

The door swung open. Dorian stood in the doorway, in another fancy waistcoat, posing. His eyes traveled over Harvey, several times. 

“Um,” said Harvey. “Eyes on the face, please.”

“I’d rather not,” Dorian answered. “You have a pretty mouth, but narrow judgemental eyes.”

“You’re damn right!” said Harvey. “About the… wait, I meant about the judgement, oh God, I meant about the…” 

Dorian tut-tutted. “Stop blaspheming in my bar.”

Harvey put the entirety of Dorian Grey, bartender, in his ‘I can’t deal with this’ box. 

“Can I please just see Nick,” he said, piteously. 

This was too much to deal with. He’d had a tough day. Everyone was almost plants. But Nick would make it better. He’d help Sabrina. Nick always tried to do that.

Dorian made an expansive ‘be-my-guest’ gesture and Harvey came down the stairs, walking softly as he could in his boots. There was music playing and glitter thick in the heated air. There were a lot of people, so close that they were touching Harvey on all sides which he always hated, but hated especially when he was half naked. There were many guys here. Many of them were shirtless. Their skin was touching his skin and Harvey didn’t know them. He set his teeth. He couldn’t blame all these shirtless dudes, they didn’t mean it. This was very close quarters. It was nobody’s fault. It was like the buses you took in the cities. They weren’t doing it on purpose.

Then a guy did do it on purpose. He slid his palm down Harvey’s chest, locking his gaze with Harvey’s as though he wasn’t doing something totally outrageous.

“Hello, fresh meat.”

Harvey usually tried to crush down impulses to feel fury for himself, lest he feel it about his dad or his grandpa. Now he was caught by surprise, and the start of shock made rage leap out of him like fire from an opened furnace.

“Take your hand off me,” said Harvey, and his voice sounded bright with wrath as well. “Now.”

The guy snatched his hand back as if Harvey was a hot stove. Everyone was looking at him, as though he was giving the world’s worst class presentation. Harvey hung his head, to hide his eyes. He had a little more space now, so he shuffled forward in the space he was given, making for the bar.

He figured Nick would be there, because Nick was unhappy, but as he edged forward he remembered that angel girl. What if Nick was cheating on Sabrina? Harvey didn’t think he would, but… what if he was? 

If he was cheating, actually… he’d be cheating on Harvey, too. Wouldn’t he? Harvey guessed it didn’t matter. Sabrina was the one Nick was trying to please.

The idea still grated on him, though. 

He saw the curve of a back in a white shirt, and messed-up black curls, and moved toward it, but then he bumped into another guy.

“’Scuse me, really sorry,” mumbled Harvey.

“Don’t kill me with your terrifying celestial magic!” exclaimed the guy.

“Oh, no,” Harvey said wretchedly, feeling even more awkward than before. “I won’t… I’m just here to see someone… Someone specific.”

The guy’s eyes bugged out. “To kill!”

“Wow, what?” asked Harvey. “He’s my boyfriend!”

“You’re going to kill your boyfriend?” 

Harvey stared.

“Fine, no judgement, go kill him,” babbled the guy, ducking under Harvey’s arm and away. 

Harvey gave a despairing sigh and headed for the bar, and the stool where Nick was. Nick was alone, and thus not cheating on anyone.

It was an enormous relief to draw close to him, to be near someone Harvey knew and trusted, but Nick’s eyes were fixed on a fancily-faceted crystal glass of whiskey. His gaze was flat and black, his mouth in the bitter line that usually meant he was going to say something terrible. He’d looked that way at Harvey, at the school dance. 

Because he’d been hurt, Harvey reminded himself. Because Harvey had hurt him, but Harvey didn’t realize. At least Harvey knew now. He was scared of people who turned mean when they were angry, but he understood it. He should try to say something that would ease that tight, furious look on Nick’s face.

“Hey, Nick,” he said, gently as he could, getting his back against the bar so there was one direction from which strangers couldn’t approach.

Nick’s burning-coal eyes slid his way. Then he blinked. He set his glass down carefully, and looked at Harvey again.

“I… did not realize I was already this drunk,” he said. 

“Stop drinking right now,” Harvey commanded. He confiscated Nick’s fancy glass and gave it to a dude standing behind him.

“Does this have angel poison in it,” the guy murmured. 

Harvey winced.

“So… you’re actually here,” said Nick, still looking at Harvey. 

It wasn’t the way Dorian had been looking, though there was a lot of non-face-related staring. It was a specific, complicated look. There was disbelief in there.

Then Nick turned to the side, swiveling on his stool and snapping his fingers so another drink appeared in his hand. 

“Why are you here?” he asked distantly. “And not with your _mortal girlfriend_?”

There was a certain furious emphasis on the last two words. Oh right, oh God, Nick was upset because Sabrina was going to die, in what would seem to Nick a relatively short amount of time. It wasn’t like with Harvey, where Nick was relatively indifferent as one would be to somebody else’s pet dying. Sabrina dying was a new and hideous idea for him.

It was hideous to Harvey too, but he’d never assumed she was an ageless magical being. If his big strong brother could die, anybody could.

“She won’t stay mortal,” Harvey whispered the reassurance. “We can fix it.”

“Oh?” Nick raised his eyebrow. “I see. I haven’t been thrown out like garbage just yet, have I? I’m still useful. Actually, without her powers, I’m more necessary than ever. Still, she’s got better things to do than come collect me. She delegated the task to you instead.”

That was all wrong, but Harvey didn’t know what part of it he could contradict. 

“I wanted to come,” he said helplessly. 

“How nice,” drawled Nick. “You’re the treat to make me do what she wishes. Well, sure. I will. But it’s going to take more than a few pathetic, amateurish kisses this time.”

Harvey started, back jolting off the bar. Nick’s gaze flickered over him again, a tongue of black flame.

“Realizing you’re in over your head this time?” he inquired. “Run along, mortal.”

Harvey caught hold of the bar behind him, met Nick’s wandering gaze, and shook his head stubbornly. Nick’s stool was set on a marble platform running along the floor by the bar, and Harvey was leaning back. It was enough so that Nick was looking down at Harvey for a change. 

That was good, Harvey thought. He remembered giving Sabrina her birthday present, months ago now. He’d spun her around and set her up several steps above him, so he could see her face properly. The necklace was all he could afford, but she deserved so much more. He wanted to be sure she really liked it, and wasn’t just pretending to be kind.

He could see Nick’s face clearly now, the tiny flickers of emotion around the cool mask. Nick, who _was_ the more Sabrina deserved. 

“You’re upset, and you’re trying to avoid talking about it. If this is because the mandrake came for me,” said Harvey, “That’s not Sabrina.”

“It was some form of Sabrina,” Nick said. “She had her memories. She was Sabrina who was pure id. She knew what she wanted. She wants you. She would have come for you even if you were still with Roz.”

“She would not have!” Harvey protested.

He was sure Nick was totally wrong about that.

Nick shook his head, seeming certain no matter how wrong he was. “She’d always come for you. She’s in love with you, not me. She wants to have her special first time with you. She was only not with you because she wanted you safe and happy. I’m comfort food. A naughty little snack you eat up while you say you shouldn’t, a big bowl of ice-cream with chocolate sauce to console you when you miss your sweet boyfriend. Then you push the empty bowl away.” 

He couldn’t think that about himself.

“Nick,” Harvey breathed, horrified. “No.”

Nick wasn’t even listening. Harvey had wished for him to talk, but he was getting so much more than he’d bargained for. Nick was in full, bitter flood.

“At least _she_ wants me. Not that it matters. She might want me, but she loves you too much to even take me. That hasn’t changed, from the first day we met, and it’s not going to. I always knew that. That was part of what I--She didn’t even lie about it. I think she should have. Why not, let’s all lie to each other. That’s what I want. I think that would be great.” 

His eyes focused on Harvey again, hot and intent. 

“You lie to me,” he coaxed. “Say it again. You wanted to come. Because you were worried about me.”

“I am.”

“It has nothing to do with the fact that Sabrina, yet again, needs my help.”

Harvey was silent. Nick barked out a laugh.

“Please commit to the lie.” 

“Nick,” Harvey said. “I know you wouldn’t leave Sabrina in trouble, so you’re going to come help anyway. And I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“I guess Sabrina really wants me to come back,” Nick drawled. “Come now, Harry, you can’t fail your mission. What are you offering me?”

“What do you want?” Harvey asked, helplessly. 

Nick leaned in, and kissed him. Without getting off his barstool, but crowding up against Harvey, pressing him back against the cool marble edge of the bar. Harvey remembered Theo talking about surprising take-charge kisses, and this was one, but there was desperation in this seizing of control. Like reins being pulled savagely taut, in shaking hands. 

Being kissed like this made it clear Nick had been trying to be careful, every time before, but he’d given up on care and control now. 

“I _don’t_ want you welcoming me home with your soft sweet little voice and your soft gentle little ways,” Nick murmured to him. “I’m a witch. Why would I want any of that? Witches only have dark carnal urges. You know that as well as I do. You try to shove me at Dorian or anybody else, since why would I care who it was? Witches are wolves. Witches are nothing but heartless hunger. So tell me, mortal. What’s your best offer?”

“Oh, God,” Harvey said, and Nick kissed him again, bit his lip for him, silenced him. 

“I don’t want to hear you calling on the false god’s name anymore,” whispered Nick, hot as the blood in Harvey’s veins. “I want you moaning mine. So what’s it going to be, farm boy? Can I have what I want? Or are you going to run scared?”

“I’m not scared,” Harvey snarled.

He’d been saying that for years, to convince his father, to convince himself, until the response was automatic. But looking into Nick’s furious, flushed face, seeing the cracks in the façade, Harvey found it was true. 

Nick was trying to scare him off, that much was clear. But other stuff was clear, too. When Nick had turned up on Harvey’s doorstep drunk, Harvey had seen the longing for affection clear as day. He’d been right when he saw that, and he knew Nick better now. If Nick had been an angry stranger, or someone unfamiliar pushing for sex, Harvey would have backed off in horror. But Nick was hurt, and scared of rejection, so rejecting him was impossible. Harvey wasn’t scared. 

“So can I…” Nick’s voice was half murmur, half snarl, as he leaned in once more and found Harvey’s mouth again, whispering and kissing at once. “Can I…”

He drew Harvey in, palms curving over the bare lines of Harvey’s back. Hot shame went through Harvey at the thought there were—other people watching, and that was—terrible, but Harvey was still shivering with his hands clenched in Nick’s hair. Nick pushed his head into the hands pulling his hair, as if demanding more.

Harvey made a low fraught sound, muddled and incoherent. As if in answer, Nick whined, sharply, at the back of his throat. His hands were running up along Harvey’s sides now, lingering and tracing, blunt nails scraping over Harvey’s skin, pausing at Harvey’s nipples and then pinching with sudden deliberate cruelty. Lightning went through Harvey, making him jolt. 

The shirtless making out in the magic gay bar had got right out of hand.

“Nicholas _Scratch_!” exclaimed Harvey, voice breaking at the end of his name. “We are in public!” 

For some reason, that seemed to get through to Nick. He gave an uneven little laugh, pressing his forehead against Harvey’s, granting Harvey pause. Then he pulled back, pressing his own lips together in a tight line as if he was angry with himself for softening even a fraction.

“Calling a halt to the proceedings?” Nick sneered. “Fine. Why don’t you go crawling back to Sabrina, and leave me to actually have fun for once?”

“I’m not leaving you,” Harvey told him.

Nick’s voice was taunting, as sarcastic as it was bitter. “So what, mortal boy, you’re planning to go all the way with me tonight?”

“Yeah,” said Harvey. “Okay.”

There was a silence, as if Harvey had shattered one of the fancy glasses on the bar. Then Nick said, “What?”

“Let’s have sex,” said Harvey. “Great idea.”

Nick blinked violently, as though he was slamming a door in his mind. “Wait, really?”

“Is this too sudden for you?” Harvey asked. “Do you not want to? That’s okay too.”

“I do want to!” snapped Nick. 

“Then let’s get out of here, since obviously doing it in a bar would be—” Harvey noted the guilty bob of Nick’s throat—oh Nick, for God’s sake—and swallowed back the words ‘incredibly sleazy.’ “—fine and not something I would judge anybody for. But! Not my preference.”

“Sure,” Nick murmured. “Of course. You’d want to be in your little mortal room, with the paper pictures on the wall, where you feel comfortable. You can be comfortable. You could just lie back on those blue covers of yours and let me--”

“Um,” said Harvey.

“I’ve never given it any thought!” Nick said. “But that would be my guess for what you might want. Shall we go there?”

“Could you, maybe… help me first,” said Harvey. “I’d rather not leave here without a shirt.”

He tried to shelter even more behind the protection of Nick’s body, using him as a human shield for modesty instead of bullets.

“You came in here with no shirt.”

Nick’s voice went hard, as though he was still suspicious about Harvey’s motives for doing so. Really, Nick was so smart but had no sense. Like Harvey was some sort of mortal honey trap? As if he would do something like that? As if it would work.

“Because Dorian made me!” Harvey protested. “I didn’t want to!” 

Dark flame kindled in Nick’s eyes again. “Am I not allowed to see anymore?” 

Harvey was at the end of his rope. “You’re allowed to see. The whole bar isn’t welcome to see!”

Nick seemed vaguely startled. He turned around on his stool, and surveyed the massive amounts of people. Some were still dancing shirtless in the heavy swirls of glitter. Many others were looking at Nick and Harvey. 

“Oh,” said Nick. 

“I kind of maybe had celestial laser eyes for a minute on the stairs,” Harvey admitted. 

Nick threw back his head and laughed, delighted and handsome. Harvey was glad to see him happier, but also was no longer distracted by frantic kissing and growing ever more self-conscious. 

“Sabrina says she can get dressed just by wishing, so can’t you…”

Nick blinked hard, seeming to focus with an effort, and waved a hand. Instantly Harvey was, thank God, covered. Relief was all he felt for a moment, until he examined the black shirt, soft and long-sleeved and practically painted on.

“Nicholas,” he said. “Is this something I would ever wear?”

Nick shook his head, looking immensely pleased with himself. “It is much better.”

“Nicholas Scratch!” 

Nick leaned an elbow against Harvey’s shoulder and made a loose, uncoordinated gesture, pin-scratch frown between eyebrows that were currently only slightly satanic. One by one, letters popped onto the front of Harvey’s overly-tight black shirt. They read ‘graphic novels…?’

Harvey rolled his eyes. Nick smirked. 

“Come on, you,” said Harvey, and began towing Nick out of the bar.

“So about the sex,” said Nick. “What did you want to do?”

“Whatever you want,” said Harvey. 

Nick’s eyes went wide, and his voice went low. “What if I want a lot of things?”

“You just say the first thing you can think of, and that’s what we’ll do!” There was a long pause, so Harvey glanced over his shoulder at Nick again, and found Nick was wearing a strange expression. “What?”

“I am thinking,” said Nick. “Carefully.”

He caught and held Harvey’s gaze, his own eyes dark and searching, but then someone bumped into them and broke the eye contact.

“Oh dark god, Nick,” said a… demon-looking person with horns on his head. “I know you like to walk on the wild side, but you cannot go home with this person. There’s important information you don’t know.”

He leaned over and whispered in Nick’s ear, ending with a swipe of pointed tongue Harvey found unnecessary.

“I do know,” Nick said mildly. “This is my boyfriend.”

“Wow, Nick, you sick freak,” said the demon, sounding impressed. He made a ‘go with dark god’ gesture as they went up the stairs. 

“Truer words never spoken,” drawled Dorian, holding the door open for them to depart. He seemed eager to see them go.

“Can I have my shirt back?” Harvey asked.

“I burned it!” said Dorian.

“Great call,” Nick told Dorian, and Dorian winked at Nick.

“Always a pleasure to almost give you alcohol poisoning, Nick. Come back anytime. If you strip, blindfold, and gag him, your boy’s welcome too.” 

Harvey glared at Dorian. Didn’t Dorian know he was already in the ‘can’t deal with this’ box!

Nick gave Harvey a slightly anxious glance as they walked out of the bar, emerging from the alleyway onto the street. It was almost dark now, the streetlights burning orange against the night in their spooky little town. Nick was casting a spell under his breath, Harvey figured so he could sober up. It might take a while.

Nick offered, “I wouldn’t—ever expect you to do anything with Dorian.”

“Great,” said Harvey. “Because I never will.”

“And…” Nick hesitated, biting his lip reluctantly. “We don’t have to have sex tonight. Unless you’re really sure.”

“Also good,” said Harvey, “since I have no intention of having sex tonight, and I never did.”

Nick wheeled on him. “But you said! You said the first thing I ask for—”

“Yep,” said Harvey, victorious. “And the first thing you asked for tonight was for us to lie to each other. So I did. You cool with that? Still think lying is super awesome?” 

Nick stopped under the streetlight and stared in shocked betrayal, mouth slightly open. He looked like a doofus, Harvey considered. Harvey looked down at him, fond, then leaned down and kissed him. Then he remembered Nick talking about pathetic, amateurish kisses and stepped back, swallowing.

“We have to go see Sabrina,” he said. “There is a pancake-eating mandrake on the loose, and also our teacher is maybe evil. And you need to talk to Sabrina about the mandrake, too. Before we go, I need to talk to you as well.”

Alarm flashed onto Nick’s face.

“Don’t break up with me,” Nick said. “Sorry I was being a jerk in there. I'm really sorry. I’ll make up for it—I’ll—don’t break up with me.”

“Sooo…” said Harvey. “Funny story. I never actually intended to go out with you.” 

Harvey sighed and sat down on the sidewalk, underneath the streetlight. His boots were in the gutter. Nick appeared to be in shock. When Harvey patted the cement, Nick sat heavily down beside him.

“I just thought, you know, sharing Sabrina was a totally insane witch suggestion, but I’d been such a jerk to you before with the memory spell, so I didn’t want to say no. I thought you’d go to Sabrina and she’d tell you it was a totally insane witch suggestion, only—I guess she’s embracing the witch lifestyle, so that didn’t happen. And then I didn’t know what to do. I love ’Brina. I care about you. I thought, since I wasn’t going to be around that long, I could just go with the witch ridiculousness.”

Nick flinched. 

“But…” Harvey said. “This is serious. Sabrina’s in real trouble. And so are you, Nick, I’ve seen you when you have your dreams. And at the same time… this sounds so weird to say, it’s not anything I’m used to… and obviously I’m not referring to anything that happened this evening... but this is almost working, isn’t it? So I’m in. For real.”

Apparently, Nick had been so convinced he was being broken up with, he didn’t entirely know how to handle the opposite. “What are you saying, exactly?”

Harvey cleared his throat. “I—I won’t suggest that you should sleep with Dorian or anyone else. I’ll be mad if you sleep with anyone else. Aside from Sabrina, obviously.”

Wheels were clearly moving behind Nick’s eyes. He said distantly, as if still processing, “What did you want me to talk to Sabrina about?”

“The mandrake stuff,” said Harvey. “I know you think it means she doesn’t love you, but I’ve known her longer than you and I think you’re wrong. Yeah, okay, the mandrake had some of Sabrina, but Sabrina doesn’t really want to eat her Aunt Hilda’s pancakes every meal. She didn’t go to her Aunt Zelda, as far as I can see, but we both know she loves Zelda. Only she and Zelda didn’t start to understand each other, I don’t think, until Sabrina grew up a little. She has to learn to understand you. I think it’s just… that you’re for a more grown-up time.”

Being part of Sabrina’s growing up was considerably sexier than being part of Sabrina’s childhood. Harvey was the security blanket for a little girl, and Nick was the boy she got when she came into her own. The puppy love and the real love. And Harvey still had to comfort Nick about it.

Nick didn’t appear convinced, so Harvey kept trying. “Didn’t the mandrake say something about giving her a false heart? She needs to know that you’re being sincere.”

“Oh, I think she was referring to the fact I gave her a wolf’s heart on Lupercalia,” said Nick, and at Harvey’s startled glance. “…February? A time of romance? It was a real wolf’s heart, but it wasn’t the heart I was supposed to give her.”

A wolf’s heart. And Nick’s adoptive mother, or familiar, had been a wolf. Well, no shit Nick hadn’t wanted to give his mother’s heart to anyone, no matter how rotten she was. Nick had loved her.

“Are gifts of hearts… traditional in witch romance?” asked Harvey, instead of prying into Nick’s trauma.

Lupercalia was the grossest holiday.

“Oh, yes,” said Nick easily.

“I don’t want any!” Harvey exclaimed. “You and Sabrina can do freaky witch Valentines without me. I, like, respect your creepy traditions, but please just go have a nice time and never tell me about it later.”

“So,” Nick said, sounding glad to be scolded. “You think we’ll all still be together, next February?”

“I… maybe,” admitted Harvey. “I hope so.”

He wouldn’t be in college by then. He hoped the gates of hell didn’t open and they didn’t all die. And maybe he hoped for something more as well. Another year, and the strange fragile possibility of being happy. Nick was smiling to himself.

Harvey took a deep breath. “You said I could fall in love with you if I wanted.”

Nick appeared to stop breathing.

“I’m not!” said Harvey. “But… I’ll think it over. Except Nick, there’s something I have to ask you. It’s really important. Here’s the thing. I know you don’t like me.” 

He got a blank stare from Nick, as if Nick had no idea what Harvey was talking about. He couldn’t believe Nick didn’t remember. It had been an important conversation!

“Since I asked you if you had a crush on me and everything, and you said no. That was pretty clear. I realize you just want to please Sabrina, and give me to her as if I was a cuddly toy or something, but if this is going to keep working, you have to… um…” This was difficult to say. But Harvey didn’t want to be a coward. “You have to try and like me. Will you? I mean—do you think you could?” 

Nick was silent. Harvey guessed that answered that. No, Nick couldn’t. And he was shocked Harvey had asked. Wow, this was embarrassing. 

Harvey made to scramble up, but Nick caught hold of his arm.

“Wait, farm boy. I’m thinking it over,” murmured Nick. The blank look vanished as he smiled, sweet as well as smug. “I think I could.”

“Are you sure?” Harvey asked nervously.

Nick leaned in to kiss him, still smiling. Harvey’s eyelids fell closed without his own permission at the kiss. He caught the light of the smile under lowered eyelashes. 

“Mmm," said Nick, and it sounded as though he liked the kiss, even though they were apparently so pathetic and amateurish. "Yes, farm boy. I’m sure.”

“If you’re sure, I—I do want something,” faltered Harvey. 

He didn’t want this to seem… transactional, in the way witches too often were, but this was non-negotiable. Nick had to know. 

“Anything,” Nick promised, too eager, always ready to feed himself to the wolves. 

“You, me, and Sabrina. If we’re going to try this—for real—”

“I was for real already,” Nick complained under his breath, but he gestured for Harvey to go on. His face was open for once, bright and younger than usual, waiting to be told what to do.

“We have to promise to be honest with each other,” Harvey said. “Please. Lies are the one thing I can’t bear.”

Nick’s face shut down as fast as it had opened up. Then he bowed his head, drawing up his knees, shoulders hunching, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk trying to make himself seem smaller. Alarmed, Harvey ducked down to check how Nick was doing.

Nick was laughing silently, shoulders heaving as though he was sobbing instead. “Truth, then. I'm so happy. And I’m going to mess this up so badly.”

“I think you’re doing fine,” Harvey told him.

Without looking up, Nick shook his head, a quick jerky motion that broke Harvey’s heart. It occurred to Harvey that he knew a small thing he was sure Nick liked. He wasn’t Sabrina, so it wouldn’t mean as much, but it might help a little. 

He reached out and took Nick’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Nick made an indecipherable noise and pressed his forehead down on Harvey’s shoulder, so Harvey hummed back, a wordless sound of comfort, and pressed their joined hands against his heart, and waited for Nick to stop trembling.

The streetlight above was a flickering orange circle of illumination, a shaky mortal thing that wouldn’t last. They had to go out into the dark, and see about evil teachers, and evil plants, and hell. But for just a moment, Harvey thought, they could stay.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon Ms Wardwell, and entertainments for the queen of hell! Thank you to my beautiful commenters, I treasure you all so much, especially in our time of weird social isolation.

Harvey’s phone went off in his pocket, buzzing with messages like a swarm of text bees. He pulled it out and swore.

“Nick,” he said, not letting go of Nick’s hand, “we have to go right now, immediately.”

“What is it now?” asked Nick, resigned.

“Uh…” said Harvey. “Theo’s texting me that… our teacher is actual facts evil… and Sabrina and Ambrose trapped her, but they had to go deal with the mandrake, so they left Roz and Theo in our teacher’s cottage to watch her… with our teacher, Ms Wardwell, tied to a chair. She’s not actually Ms Wardwell, she’s just been wearing her face.”

He felt he should clarify matters, but he wasn’t that clear on what was going on himself. He was clear on one thing: Ms Wardwell was going to flunk them all.

“For how long?” asked Nick.

Harvey thought back to Ms Wardwell’s extreme makeover. “Since November 1st.”

Nick seemed startled by the specificity. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t, like, subtle about it,” said Harvey. “We just thought it was about finding empowerment through uh, bold lipstick choices, and not… demonic possession…”

“You’re sure she’s a demon?”

“Theo says her real name is Lily,” said Harvey, and then his phone went off again. “Sorry, autocorrect. Her real name is Lilith.”

“Lilith!” exclaimed Nick, and suddenly the world was whirling away. 

Harvey found himself crouched among the trees, in front of their teacher’s quaint little cottage. There used to be a cross over the door, he seemed to remember. It wasn’t there any longer.

It seemed like Lilith was a seriously bad demon. Theo and Roz were in there alone with her. He scrambled up, losing Nick’s hand on the way, and launched himself at the door.

Theo started, gun trained on the door for the briefest instant, then hurled himself into Harvey’s arms. 

“Harv, thank God!” They did a quick hug, Theo thumping him on the back then pushing him away with finality. Then Theo’s eyebrows rose. “Wow, you look great.”

“Uh… thanks,” said Harvey.

“Not the most important thing we have going on right now,” said Theo. “But whoa. I’m not hitting on you! But do you like, work out?”

He seemed very surprised about this revelation.

“Some… times,” said Harvey. “Mostly I have to be… in the mines with an axe…?”

It was dark and terrifying in the mines, but nobody was looking at him expecting him to be strong. He could get the work he needed to do over with, and go home. 

“Where did you get that shirt?” said Theo. “You look so cool!”

Harvey glanced over his shoulder. Nick stood on the step behind him, radiating smugness. 

“So does dating Nick Scratch automatically make you dress better?” Theo wanted to know. 

“Wanna try?” asked Nick.

The tease and flirt was his automatic one, not serious, but Theo blushed a bit. Right, Harvey remembered. Theo thought Nick was cute. 

“I only ask because Sabrina started dressing to the goth nines as well,” Theo explained. “All those dark colors and heels, like every day was hot goth o’clock.”

“Sabrina decides what to do on her own,” said Nick. “She always looks hot. She has great taste. Unlike some mortals I could mention.” 

“Oh, thanks.” Harvey rolled his eyes. “A bartender called Dorian Grey stole my shirt,” he told Theo. “So Nick got me this one instead.”

“Dorian Grey like the book?” asked Roz’s voice from within the cottage. “ _The Portrait of Dorian Grey_? By Oscar Wilde?”

Nick cheered up, distracted from whatever dark thoughts he was absorbed in. “There’s a book about Dorian?”

“Yes, I own it,” said Roz. "It's highly homoerotic."

"Sounds about right," drawled Nick.

Theo gave Harvey a look that said clearly, did your man bang a renowned character from classic gay literature, and Harvey made a worried hand gesture like, maybe so, but don't make a big thing of it. 

Theo stepped back, letting Harvey and Nick walk inside. 

“Could I…” Nick’s eyes raked over Roz’s whole body, narrowing. “I’ll ask my boyfriend to get the book for me from the mortal library, then. He does that all the time.”

Harvey wasn’t sure what the look was about. He could’ve sworn Nick was about to be charming and ask Roz to borrow her book. 

Nick didn’t look at Roz long. His eyes went to Ms Wardwell, tied to her chair, and stayed there. Ms Wardwell appeared entirely unruffled by being tied to a chair. She met Nick’s gaze, and the very bones in their faces seemed to sharpen, two predators staring each other down.

“Ambrose said the rope is enchanted,” Theo muttered to Harvey. “It’s very worrying. I’m very worried.”

“I’m thirsty,” announced Demon Ms Wardwell, without taking her eyes off Nick. “Would a kindly mortal fetch me a drink?”

Harvey started forward, but Nick did the soccer mom arm thing. 

“Don’t go near her,” said Nick, without taking his eyes off Demon Ms Wardwell.

The atmosphere between Nick and Ms Wardwell was terrible. It wasn’t like Harvey was thrilled their teacher was a demon, but this felt even more wrong somehow. He searched desperately for something to say.

“Do you have, like, a surname?” Harvey asked Demon Ms Wardwell. “I don’t feel right calling adults by just their first names… Or is it just Lilith, like Madonna?”

“Madonna,” whispered Theo, as though in disbelief.

“Are things not bad enough! Must we mention the false god’s virgin bride!” exclaimed Nick.

“Madonna’s actually a mortal musician,” Roz explained helpfully to Nick, and Nick nodded appreciation for the mortal information, then checked himself and shot another narrow-eyed glare in her direction.

Rosalind had done nothing! Was this about her dad being a reverend? 

Ms Wardwell’s blue eyes judged them all. “Ah. It’s just Lilith.”

Right. Harvey nodded distressfully. You had to call people what they wanted to be called.

Lilith elaborated, “My other titles include the Mother of Demons, spurner of Adam, she who lies with snakes, Madam Satan...”

“Lilith is cool,” said Theo hastily. “You had to ask, Harv.” 

“A snake in the grass, waiting to bite Sabrina,” said Nick. “Sabrina trusted you. She needs people around her who she can _trust_!”

Nick’s voice lashed out like a whip. 

“Bleeding open heart, that girl,” Demon Ms Wardwell mused. “Wide-open heart, and wide-open ears to pour poison into. But you know that as well as I. Don’t you, Mr Scratch?”

Nick was across the room fast as a flying shadow. Harvey thought for a moment that Nick had moved fast, then realized Nick hadn’t moved at all. It was magic. Nick’s hands yanked back the mass of the demon’s hair.

“What is He planning for Sabrina?”

“She’s the harbinger of hell,” murmured Lilith. “She will be queen, I’m told. Worry about these soft little mortals when hell rises. Worry about yourself and your god--”

“Shut your mouth!” Nick snarled. “Or I’ll shut it for you.”

She laughed, blood-red mouth curling. Nick got in her face, menacing.

The demon and the witch snarling at each other was a scene from a nightmare, but there was something else Harvey found profoundly unsettling about the way Nick was acting. When Nick was furious, he spat out harsh truths, but he wasn’t vicious. 

_This isn’t the way Nick gets angry at anyone but himself_ , Harvey thought. He wanted Nick to stop.

“Nick,” Harvey said, helplessly. “I—Hey, nerd. Please don’t.”

He crossed the dark floor, and took hold of Nick’s arm, pulling him back and against Harvey. Nick resisted the grip Harvey had on his arm for an instant, then slowly, very slowly, relaxed against him. 

“You insult him to calm him down?” Theo asked. “Is that—like, kinky?”

“No!” said Harvey.

At the same time, Nick said, “Nerd is an _insult_?”

There was a silence.

“This is all so stressful,” muttered Theo, re-adjusting his grip on his gun. 

Roz had left her gun on Demon Ms Wardwell’s kitchen table. Harvey wished he had a gun of his own. 

“I’ll be right outside,” Nick said curtly, then yanked out of Harvey’s grasp and strode out, every footstep like a slammed door. 

“Yeah, this is probably bad, what with that guy’s praise kink and everything,” Theo mumbled darkly.

“His what?” said Harvey. “Must you keep saying that word? Theo, please, the witches say disturbing things too often, I’m at my limit.”

Theo’s fidgeting with his gun got more intense. Roz was watching Harvey with her wide, newly clear eyes.

“Do you…” she began, and stopped.

“I should… go after him,” said Harvey.

He wanted to. Only Roz was looking at him, something undefinable and sorrowful in her face. He didn’t understand it, but he wanted to make it better. Except he was still going after Nick. He’d promised, and tonight he’d promised to mean it.

He ducked his head, and then ducked out of the door. Nick was standing outside the cottage door, arms folded. 

“Lilith made me angry.” Nick’s voice was distant. “But I’ll keep it together. You mortals don’t have to worry.”

Harvey wasn’t sure what to say. Nerd was an insult. Guys at school called him that all the time. And…

“It’s an endearment,” said Harvey. “That’s how I meant it, without meaning to. My… my brother used to call me that. Not that—this isn’t brotherly, obviously, because that would be disgusting, but—I was so lonely without him, and then you were there and I felt better. When you’re teasing, you can be—affectionate without having to admit you are.”

He touched Nick’s elbow, hesitantly. He wasn’t sure Nick would want to be touched, but after a second Nick sighed and leaned in to be collected up, Harvey’s arm going around his neck, his head under Harvey’s chin.

“That makes no sense, Harry,” Nick scoffed into the collar of Harvey’s new shirt. Harvey’s new shirt was a single thin layer and it was cold outside, so Nick’s warmth was welcome.

“Mortals don’t make a lot of sense, I guess,” Harvey mumbled. 

There, that seemed to be better. 

“When you said you wanted me to be honest…” Nick said. “If I had something to tell you…”

“Do tell me. But, uh, tell me later? We can’t leave Roz and Theo in there with her,” said Harvey. “Also it’s freezing.”

“I guess you shouldn’t have given your precious Rosalind your jacket,” snapped Nick, stepping back. 

Harvey sighed. He didn’t know what Nick’s problem was, but he couldn’t contradict anything Nick had said. He had given Roz his jacket, and Roz was precious to him.

They went back inside. 

“All worked up over nothing?” Lilith asked mockingly from her chair. “Believe me, I don’t need to know the latest iteration of this teenage foolishness. It was a snap to persuade Sabrina to resurrect the dead, because she was so in love. Then Miss Sabrina was hotly denying that she had a rebound crush, but in the exact same conversation she was considering skipping down the path of night hand in hand with Mr Scratch.”

Nick flinched. “Shut up. I will gut you for hurting her.”

“Oh, we don’t like the word rebound, do we?” Lilith asked. “Consider the timing. That’s what she did. Rebounded right off the nasty-guilty-feelings wall into your ever-so-willing arms. Does the truth hit too hard?”

“Witches don’t feel jealousy,” said Nick. “You should know that.”

“You shouldn’t,” said Lilith. “Feel jealousy, that is. You don’t matter to Sabrina, and the mortal doesn’t matter to her either. Love was merely an excuse for her. That’s why it didn’t matter who it was. She leaped on the excuse to cast her necromantic spells, and she leaped on the excuse to follow the path of night. She wants to feel good about herself, but more than that she wants power. She was born to it and is irresistibly drawn to it. She will burn through you both on her path to glory. Power is the only truth. Love is an illusion.” 

She was very composed for a lady tied to a chair. Nick was starting to look frantic with fury again.

“Um…” said Harvey. “But… you’re lying again, right?”

Lilith’s eyes flickered toward him, and Harvey approached her despite the urgent protesting noise Nick made at the back of his throat.

He hadn’t liked the way Nick had loomed over her, pushing his face down menacingly into hers, even if Lilith was the mother of demons. So when he reached the chair he knelt down, and looked up.

“You, um… loved Ms Wardwell’s fiancé, didn’t you? Not Ms Wardwell, but you. I remember you looked… really happy in school. Where is he?”

Lilith stared down into Harvey’s face for a moment, in a silence like the moment after something tore. Then she looked away, her jaw working for a moment.

“Love is a dangerous illusion that consumes you,” she said. “He was consumed.”

“You killed him,” said Nick. 

“I did not!”

Now it was Lilith’s voice that was like a whip, and if she was anything like Nick that meant she was hurt. 

“Someone else did,” Harvey said slowly.

“Was it Satan?” asked Theo, from behind them. “I mean, like, Satan’s in the mix here, right? If we were trying to solve a locked room murder mystery and one of the dinner guests was the actual devil, I would suspect him first.”

Harvey nodded. That made sense. Theo was so smart. 

“I’m really sorry,” he told Lilith, quietly. 

“You’re a lovestruck imbecile who bares your throat to every witch you see,” sneered Lilith. “And you’re flunking math.”

“Well, at least I’m not staying on Satan’s side after he killed someone I loved,” said Harvey. “Satan sucks.”

Nick made another protesting noise at the back of his throat. Harvey was sorry for not being more accepting of Nick’s religion but if Satan wanted Harvey to be more tolerant, Satan should quit bothering Sabrina and murdering people.

Lilith looked slightly amused. “For someone like me, Satan is the only game in town, Mr Kinkle.”

“No he’s not. Sabrina has power, too. You were just saying so. Be on ’Brina’s side instead,” said Harvey. “You’re her favorite teacher.”

“You were my favorite teacher, too,” Roz said sadly. “Not when you were Ms Wardwell. I liked you after.”

Everyone looked over at Roz. She was standing near the fireplace, under an inverted cross, but she wore her faith in her face.

“Since I am the Mother of Demons,” said Lilith with asperity, “that is a horrible indictment of the American school system. Yet your mistake is none of my concern.”

Roz continued, “After, when you started dressing differently, and acting differently too. You didn’t seem to care what anybody thought. You helped us start our feminist book club. You weren’t scared of the principal or anything. Sabrina and I agreed you were girl goals.”

“Get used to disappointment,” said Lilith. “All girls do. I was setting a trap for your friend, and I trapped all of you as well. I disguised myself as a fortune teller, and lured Sabrina into trusting yet another person she shouldn’t trust, and persuaded Mr Kinkle not to go away to art school. And you, Miss Walker? I had you stay blind so Sabrina would perform a healing miracle, as one of the last steps to open the gates of hell.” 

Theo cleared his throat. “And me?”

“What about you?” Lilith snapped.

“When you were a fortune teller, you talked me out of transitioning with magic. What part of your, like, literally diabolical plan was that?”

“You could have been hurt!” Lilith said, then bit her lip. “There was no benefit for hurting you, or rest assured I would have. While I was pretending to be a fortune teller, there seemed no sense in permitting foolishness.”

“I felt a lot better about myself afterward,” said Theo. “I was glad I hadn’t tried to use magic. And when weird plant Sabrina offered me magic, I turned her down. You did that.”

Lilith had looked after Theo. That was worth a lot.

“And you were a good teacher,” said Roz encouragingly. 

Harvey nodded. “What Satan did to you was horrible. Also, if he needs a queen and you think power is cool, why can’t you be queen? You seem more age-appropriate for Satan.” He considered. “Though honestly, Ms Lilith, I think you can do better.”

“Also Sabrina shouldn’t be queen of anything,” interjected Theo. “Love her, but she gets overly intense when she’s the leader of group projects.”

That wasn’t fair. Harvey found Sabrina to be very inspiring as a leader of group projects. Harvey supported Sabrina being queen if she wanted, and he was sure she would be great at it. These didn’t seem like ideal circumstances, though. 

Lilith hesitated. “It is absurd that Satan wants a sixteen-year-old miss to be queen.”

“He’s gross,” said Harvey. “Sorry, Nick.”

Theo and Roz made noises of agreement. Nick appeared stunned by the turn things had taken.

“It’s too late,” said Lilith. “The final miracle to open the gates of hell and release Lucifer and his horde is to murder the self, and live on.”

“… And Sabrina is in the woods, trying to kill the mandrake…” Roz’s voice was faint, and faded entirely away as the magnitude of the disaster overwhelmed them.

Harvey stood.

“Maybe it’s not too late! Let’s go and stop her.”

“But Harv, the insane plant is also a problem,” Theo pointed out. 

“Ms Lilith can deal with the mandrake,” said Harvey. “Can’t you?”

“I could, if it wasn’t for…” Lilith wiggled in her restraints.

“Mortal,” said Nick, tense. “Don’t!”

But Harvey was looking at Lilith. He knew what it was to love someone, and how it felt to lose them, and he thought he saw both feelings on Lilith’s face. 

Harvey reached out a hand. The ropes binding the Mother of Demons crumbled away to ash, as Nick’s and Prudence’s bonds had burned back in the unhallowed church. 

Lilith uncoiled from her chair like a serpent. 

“They’re not far,” she said, and the whole cottage seemed to turn, teleporting until all five of them were in a stand of trees.

Ambrose was by Sabrina’s side as he always was. Sabrina was there, and the mandrake who was almost Sabrina.

And, Harvey realized with a feeling that went right through him like the cold wind, they were already too late.

The other Sabrina’s childish smock was dyed dark with blood. She was lying in Sabrina’s arms, and Sabrina was crying. The dying Sabrina was the first to notice their arrival.

“Harvey,” the mandrake Sabrina said faintly, her eyes full of the grey sky over the trees. “You came back.”

She coughed, then smiled, radiant and sweet with her teeth dyed red. 

Abruptly his legs went out from under him, so he was kneeling on the cold ground and among the long-dead leaves with two versions of his beloved. His fingers scrabbled among the curled brown leaves to grasp her hand, lying limp in the dirt. He picked it up and held it, trying to warm it. She was already getting cold.

“Yeah,” said Harvey. “Of course I did, ’Brina. I’ll always come back to you.”

“Always,” the other Sabrina repeated faintly. “I love you so much. Always, always.”

“I love you back,” Harvey said. “So much.”

It wasn’t a lie. Nick was right, when he said this was Sabrina too. Harvey felt as though he was looking at a younger Sabrina, hurt in more ways than one. He had loved her when they were children together, cried whenever she hurt, learned to dream by dreaming of her. Every year of their lives, Harvey had loved her. This year was no different. No time and no strangeness could change his heart.

The other Sabrina’s hand tightened on his. Then she turned her face up to the true Sabrina’s.

“I love you,” she told Sabrina. 

“I love you,” Sabrina said, on a rising sob. 

The other Sabrina gave a little sigh like a sleepy child, and turned her face in against Sabrina’s shirt, and died.

And all around them the dead woods rattled, as if coming to a terrible life past death.

“What the hell is that?” Theo whispered.

And Nick whispered back, “Hell.”

“Disaster, my dear students,” said Lilith, curls barely stirred by the death rattle wind. “Disaster, and despair, and the end of the world. He comes, his devils in a flood behind him, and all the kingdoms of the world shall be his.”

Her red lips curled. She was the only one in the winter woods still able to smile. It felt as though she had learned to smile at despair centuries ago, and this was the last lesson she would ever teach them. 

\--

The body withered away until it was nothing but the dried husk of a plant. Sabrina sat clinging to it, like a child with a broken, useless toy.

“I must prepare to receive my lord,” said Lilith, and vanished away. 

The rest of them lingered in desperate uncertainty. 

“Cousin, let me take care of it,” said Ambrose, kneeling down beside her, dark eyes serious for once. “I’ll bury the—I’ll bury her. I’ll tuck those mortals safely away in their homes. You go back, and rest. Just for a little while.”

Sabrina drew in a deep breath, visibly gathering all the pieces of herself together, and nodded. Sometimes Harvey thought Sabrina was trying to be just like Ambrose—taking care of the world, as Ambrose took care of her.

Sabrina stood, and plunged through the woods she loved without another glance at the withered thing on the ground. 

“Nick, be a love and go entertain her,” said Ambrose, sounding like his Aunt Hilda but a naughtier version.

Nick nodded and followed in Sabrina’s wake. Harvey looked after them, rose to his feet, then shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“You go too,” said Ambrose, without looking up from the remains of the mandrake. “Get her mind off things, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” said Harvey. He absolutely refused to know.

“Follow Nick’s lead. Believe me, he knows what to do.”

Harvey went after Sabrina and Nick, if only because he was so terrified of what Ambrose might say next if he stayed. He found them on the path through the woods. As he watched, Nick drew level with Sabrina but then fell back a step because she didn’t seem to see him. Both of them had a look on their faces: focused and shut away at once. That meant they were shut away from each other, too.

Harvey was awed by Sabrina, but he wasn’t in awe of her the way Nick was. He couldn’t be, not when he’d known her so long.

He ran up the path to her side, and caught her hand. She blinked, as though coming back from a million miles away, and smiled at him faintly. 

“Hi, Harvey.”

“Hi, ’Brina.”

She swung his hand once. She was amazing. She’d be okay.

Nick must have seen the smile, Harvey thought, turning his head. And—Harvey and Sabrina were holding hands, the way Nick liked to hold hands but couldn’t seem to make the move to reach for them. He turned his head, looking for Nick and wondering how he could convey to Sabrina that she should hold Nick’s hand also.

Nick wholly misinterpreted the searching look for him, and drew level with Harvey.

“Mortals need a lot of affection, don’t they?” he observed, touching the shoulder of Harvey’s new shirt. “Well. It’s fine.”

He took Harvey’s free hand. Harvey eyed the skyline, and wished for patience. Now Harvey had no free hands. What if he needed to use his phone or wanted a snack? These were issues relating to ethical polyamory that his mom’s sexuality books didn’t cover.

The gates of hell were open, so it wasn’t the time for snacks. He held onto them until they reached the Spellman house, and went up the porch. It was a little uncomfortable, but having someone on either side did stop the wind from being so cold.

Sabrina let them in, and they followed her up to her room. She was holding onto Harvey’s hand until she sat down on the edge of the bed. Harvey sat on the floor, looking up at her, and Nick went around to the other side of the bed, crawled onto it and put his arm around her. Her face was pale and determined in her nest of snow-white hair.

“We’ve got to do something!” Sabrina announced. “We’ve got to make a plan! I’m going to tell my aunts about Satan.”

Nick made a terrified face, then controlled his expression when Sabrina glanced at him. 

“What?” Harvey asked him. 

“Lucifer is… their god,” said Nick, slowly. “What if they… feel like they should do what He wants…”

Sabrina stared at him. “They won’t betray me. They love me.”

Nick’s face spasmed. He looked away. 

“Does anyone have any ideas for what we should do?” Sabrina asked.

Harvey tightened his hold on her hand, and leaned up, eagerly. “Yeah, I have a thought. Lilith said that the demons would flood after Satan, but they haven’t flooded after him yet,” said Harvey. “So my thought was, I know where there’s a bunch of dynamite in my dad’s mines. Let’s make sure the demon hordes can’t come. Let’s blow up the gates of hell.”

Sabrina stared at him for a long moment, then broke into a brilliant smile. “Harvey, this is genius!”

Harvey beamed back at her. Nick made a small, stifled sound. 

“What is it, Nick?” asked Harvey. 

“Nothing, Harry,” said Nick.

Sure, he was using the not-pleased-with-him nickname, but it was nothing.

“Nick, please, for the last time, it’s Harvey!” exclaimed Sabrina.

“Be honest like you promised,” Harvey said sternly.

“Fine,” said Nick. “You’re both very cute, and Spellman, I know you’re very intelligent, so I don’t understand why your brain just turns off when you spy the most reckless possible thing to do! And as for you, mortal, sometimes I don’t think you have a brain at all.”

There was a silence. Nick looked like he deeply regretted honesty. Maybe less honesty would be good right now! No, Harvey couldn’t think that way.

Nick added, “Not that I’m calling you stupid. I’m not doing that.”

Actually it seemed like Nick was doing that.

“… Thanks for your honesty,” said Harvey, “but seriously I think this idea could work. And I want to help, and I can’t do magic. Roz and Theo will want to help too. So we’ll get the dynamite--”

“You can do magic!” Nick snapped. “How long is everybody going to dance around the celestial powers so we don’t hurt your tender feelings?”

There was an echoing silence. Harvey didn’t know what to say. Sabrina looked reproachfully at Nick. 

“I don’t know that it’s exactly magic,” she told Nick, “and if Harvey’s not comfortable—”

“Why is it not magic?” asked Nick. “Because it’s not from Satan? Who cares where it comes from? Books say witches got their powers from older gods and goddesses, once.”

Sabrina looked troubled. “That’s true, but you mustn’t make Harvey unhappy.”

“I want to help,” Harvey said again. “I—I don’t know how the celestial stuff works, but I do know how dynamite works, so—”

“Stop talking about dynamite!” shouted Nick, then turned to Sabrina. “He’s mortal!”

“Yes, but I’ve been thinking, my mortal friends and my mortal boyfriend—” Sabrina squeezed Harvey’s hand—“maybe I don’t need to protect them anymore! They’re so brave and they’re determined to fight with me.”

Nick’s mouth twisted. “Why on earth would you not need to protect them anymore? He’ll blow himself up, or the demonic hordes will eat him.” 

Sabrina drew her hand away from Nick, wide-eyed and hurt, as if he had suddenly become a hornet and stung. At the window, her familiar Salem hissed. 

This was all Harvey’s fault. He was the one who’d asked Nick to be honest, and Sabrina wasn’t used to Nick disagreeing with her, and if Harvey wasn’t here they’d be making out or more. Harvey was messing everything up, just by being here. 

“I do want to fight by your side,” broke in Harvey, and Sabrina hummed approval, “but—but you said you wouldn’t get back together with me at Christmas because you didn’t want anything bad to happen to me. Did you mean that?”

He didn’t know if she had, or if she’d meant, _Now I have snow-white hair and magical powers and Nick Scratch is going to be my magic boyfriend. Your services are no longer required._

“Of course I did,” said Sabrina, and he knew she believed that, at least.

“So Nick’s just trying to protect mortals, like you do,” said Harvey, and Sabrina nodded and transferred her hum of approval to Nick. “I think we’re all… very worried? About Satan?”

“You’re right. Sorry I was being hard on you, Nick,” said Sabrina, and Nick made an obvious effort to show no emotion at being apologized to. Sabrina raked one small beloved hand through that brilliant new hair, and confessed: “I am very stressed out. Thanks, Harvey.” She gave both of them a questioning little look, scrunching up her nose as she did so. “Have you guys… been spending a lot of time together?”

Harvey opened his mouth to explain about the satanic nightmares, then remembered that they were private. Nick didn’t want Sabrina to know about nightmares, possibly because waking up every night from nightmares wasn’t cool? But Nick was cool, and saying no to Satan’s Dark Devotion was especially cool, Harvey considered. He was sure Sabrina would think so. But it wasn’t Harvey’s call.

“Um,” stammered Harvey instead, trying to come up with a brilliant cover story. “Uh… you know how Nick likes mortal stuff? I’ve been showing him mortal books and mortal songs.”

Sabrina seemed charmed to hear this. She gave Nick a fond look. He was transparently pleased to be on the receiving end of a fond look. Oh, good, this was great, this was working!

“Nick learns the mortal songs as soon as he hears them,” Harvey added, proud. “He’s got a photographic memory that also hears things? Like an audiobook, for memories. I think he must be a genius.”

Predictably, Nick looked smug about being praised. He nodded confirmation to Sabrina, then winked for further confirmation. 

“Has Harvey played you any of the rock he has on vinyl?” asked Sabrina. 

Nick seemed direly confused by the question. 

“No, but I will. And… Ambrose was saying Nick should entertain you,” Harvey offered. 

Sabrina straightened up, as if she’d just received a small shock. Nick’s eyebrows were always expressive, and right now Harvey refused to read the scandalous expressions they were making.

“So I thought ,” he said, determinedly. “Nick could sing to you?”

“Oh!” said Sabrina. “I’d like that. Very much.”

Of course she would. Being serenaded was very romantic. Harvey’d always wanted to sing to her, but the one time he’d tried he’d been too self-conscious and his voice cracked and—he couldn’t. It was different from singing with Nick, who needed to be taught about mortal things. Sabrina knew everything, and was an excellent singer herself. Harvey would just embarrass her.

But Nick was here, and he’d sing to her, and she’d like it. ’Brina would be happy, in the midst of hell and horror.

Sabrina, brightly anticipating her treat, scooted over a little and patted the mattress encouragingly, so Harvey could sit up on the bed and listen too. He climbed up. On the other side of Sabrina, Nick leaned back against one of her ruffled pillows with one arm behind his head. He was smirking. 

“ _Mmm hmm, I can’t fight it, I’ll do anything you wanna do tonight_ ,” Nick sang, in a low but still somehow musical purr. “ _Oh hell, little black dress…_ ”

He raised his eyebrows at Harvey, who was slightly horrified that Nick had forgotten the words at this critical juncture. 

“ _Got me in a mess, can’t even say yes_ ,” he sang, nervously, but Sabrina’s smile went supernova, and Harvey sang on with growing confidence, “ _Got me tongue-tied, and wide-eyed, and can’t lie…_ ”

“ _I like it_ ,” Nick purr-sang, voice sinking, “ _when you make me say… mmm-hmm… oh…_ ”

Oh, he’d known the words all along. That fake.

Sabrina seemed to be enjoying this musical performance very much. She leaned closer to hear Nick, one hand still clasped in Harvey’s, and Nick drew her down toward the pillows and kissed her. His mouth opened under hers, hungry, and her free hand slid into Nick’s black curls.

Harvey admired them for a moment, then thought maybe he should go. Only Sabrina was still holding his hand, so it was difficult to work out how to do that in a tactful way. He figured Sabrina would let go at some point as she sighed and lost herself further in the kiss, but Sabrina’s palm stayed pressed against his, fingers tightly intertwined. Nick’s free hand slid down Sabrina’s ribs, resting on her tiny waist, drawing her body firmly in against his. She made another delighted sighing sound. Nick’s fingers spread against her hip.

Harvey felt kind of strange in a muddled overly warm way, a faint buzzing ran directly beneath his skin like electricity. He tried to gently draw his hand back, but Sabrina took that the wrong way. She leaned up as if he’d been tugging her toward her, and kissed him with the dark lipstick blurred on her shining-wet mouth. 

He had never been able to resist her, even for a second, even when he thought he should. He kissed her back, that sweet devouring witch’s mouth, the fated queen of hell laid out on her flowery bedspread, the girl he loved more than earth or heaven. She let go of his hand at last, to slide her arm around his neck and bring him closer. His hip came into contact with Nick’s hand. 

Harvey hesitated and leaned back a fraction away from Sabrina, her lowered lids and brown eyes with those sweeping lashes. He felt like perhaps he should apologize to Nick, say it wasn’t intentional, but Nick’s face was buried in the crook of Sabrina’s neck. Sabrina tipped her head back to give Nick better access, throat a white arch, and Harvey drew in involuntarily and Sabrina surged across the tiny space still between them to kiss him again. Nick’s curly hair brushed Harvey’s cheek, whisper soft. Sabrina’s tongue curled against his, burning hot. 

Sabrina gave a breathless little laugh when they parted. She breathed, and Harvey felt as though the burn had transferred to his face, a flush turning into a brushfire along his cheekbones. Nick dropped a light kiss against the pink bitten place on Sabrina’s neck, then leaned over toward Harvey. Who went still, heart a scared bird.

“Oh, are you two going to--?” Sabrina asked. “You can,” she added, very quickly, then with more deliberation, “Maybe… you should.”

Nick leaned in closer, one eyebrow slanted in a question, eyes hot. Sabrina was smiling at them, her heartbeat pressed against Harvey’s chest. Harvey didn’t move, so in a second--

“I’m telling you, I heard that mortal,” Zelda declared, imperious tones muffled by the door.

“I heard that Nick Scratch!” said Hilda’s voice from behind the door, an instant before it was flung open.

“Sabrina!” said her Aunt Zelda from the doorway. “I deeply approve of your wishing to throw the now-useless bauble of your virginity from the highest hill, but particularly at the first attempt would it not be best to have the undivided attention of a carnal expert? Group situations can come later. Though to my mind a dozen sex demons would be preferable to one bumbling witch hunter.”

Harvey flung himself backward, so he was sitting on the very edge of the bed.

“Hi Harvey love,” said her Aunt Hilda, peeping over her sister’s shoulder. “Don’t mind Zelda. Hello Nick. At least you have your shirt on today.”

Nick stared at her uncertainly, as if all his other authority figures preferred for him to be shirtless. 

“And why would that be a good thing?” asked Zelda. “Let Sabrina view the sleek muscular wares before she samples them.”

Harvey choked on air. Zelda and Hilda Spellman walked into the room, Zelda striding in a power skirt suit with a probably cursed brooch on the lapel, Hilda hurrying behind her in a long green tweed skirt. Green was Harvey’s favorite color, and Hilda was one of his favorite people, but he couldn’t say he was pleased to see her right then.

“Aunt Zelda!” exclaimed Sabrina, “I was just spending a little totally innocent quality time with my boyfriends—”

They didn’t look surprised, so Sabrina had told them. But of course she would have.

Zelda’s mouth thinned. “Don’t say words like ‘innocent,’ you know they upset me.”

“You’re making sweet Harvey uncomfortable,” Hilda scolded her sister, stern even though Zelda was far taller.

“Then he is free to leave!” said Zelda. “Clearly, he’s the one leading this charge to innocence. It’s obviously not Nicholas’s idea--”

“Oh, no doubt,” said Hilda, with another squinty suspicious look at Nick, who withdrew further into the ruffled pillows. Nick had gone silent, a terrible sign.

Harvey was almost tempted to reach around Sabrina to get to him, but in front of Sabrina’s aunts… 

“What a future to look toward. Everybody will wear so many shirts, to appease mortal puritanical ways,” scoffed Zelda. “Though at least the mortal’s shirt is less offensive than his usual attire.”

“I picked it for him,” Nick told Zelda, to be praised, then added, “He’s my boyfriend too,” for unknown reasons.

Hilda gave Harvey a worried look. “Perhaps now isn’t the time, Zelds.”

“What better time could there be?” asked Zelda, who seemed intent on giving the witch version of a double shovel talk. “Finally Harvey knows the truth. If he insists on being involved he must see reason and submit to Nicholas’s instruction, and the focus on Sabrina’s pleasure must be—”

“Maybe I’ll just go,” Harvey said faintly. “Thanks for having me and everything—”

“I need to talk to you guys on an unrelated matter,” began Sabrina.

Zelda’s voice rang. “You cannot distract me!” 

“Satan has arrived upon earth and wishes me to be his bride!” announced Sabrina.

It seemed Zelda could, in fact, be distracted. A mantle of wintry resolve seemed to fall upon her.

“Certainly not,” she said. “I forbid it. You’re far too young.”

“Wait,” said Ambrose from the bedroom door. “Are we… turning against our dark god?” 

Zelda shot Ambrose a disapproving glance. “Family first.” 

“Well, naturally, auntie, I was just checking,” said Ambrose. He clocked the situation on the bed, then spun in a despairing dressing-gown pirouette. “Did you interrupt Sabrina’s entertainment! Aunties!”

“Twisted carnality later,” said Zelda. “Killing our god now.”

Sabrina was too worried to beam, but she surveyed her family with love and no surprise. In contrast, Nick seemed bewildered and startled, though that blinked off his face when Zelda turned to him and informed him that he must use his strapping shoulders to help reinforce their wards.

The fight against Satan was on.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth and Satan will out! Thank you so much to my adorable commenters, I treasure your adorable faces!

Zelda sent Harvey home eventually. The Spellman house was warded tighter than ever now, and she made it pretty clear she didn’t want a witch-hunter staying over that night. Even after Harvey had already slunk out, Hilda continued to hold the door open for Nick.

“Bye, Harvey. Be careful,” called out Sabrina. 

Harvey waved shyly back.

Sabrina turned to Nick, standing in the doorway with her. 

“You be careful too,” she said, with her little secret smile just for him, and real worry in her eyes. “Even if you are the bad boy who’s the best conjurer since Edward Spellman. Take care. It’s dangerous out there.”

Nick looked down at her, face stripped bare, and Sabrina leaned up and kissed him for a lingering moment.

“What a shame you can’t stay longer,” Hilda told Nick, elbowing him out. “Bye, Harvey love.”

So Harvey and Nick walked through the wild woods on the path to Harvey’s house together. Harvey wondered if it counted as walking someone home, if you were also coming to sleep over due to Satanic nightmares. Since Nick could have just teleported there, he supposed it did count.

Nick held his hand on the way there. It was nice of Nick to remember mortals’ supposed need for continuous physical affection. It was nice generally. Harvey swung their linked hands a little as they went. 

Billy drove by, staring out the window of his truck, but Nick didn’t seem to notice him and Harvey ignored him.

His heart stuck in his throat at the thought of his dad possibly being at home, but when they got there the windows were dark.

“I wonder where my dad is,” Harvey mused, getting out his key.

“You saw him already,” said Nick. “He’s fine. Who wants him here? You can show me your rocks and vinyl collection.”

“I.. don’t think you entirely understood what Sabrina meant by that,” Harvey told him.

Harvey took him to the garage anyway, showed Nick the rock collection, and got him to understand about vinyls. Nick seemed wistful, as though he’d had something else in mind, but he liked mortal contraptions and he cheered up when Harvey let him use the record player. Under strict supervision.

When Nick had piled up the vinyls around him and was reading the sleeves with serious attention, Harvey ventured, “You said outside Ms Wardwell’s cottage that there was something you wanted to be honest about?”

Nick seemed startled. Then he appeared to consider his answer. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I lied about Ambrose being the last guy I was with,” said Nick eventually. “I got Luke to fuck me right before mortal New Year’s.”

“Oh,” said Harvey, uncertainly. “But I thought you didn’t like Luke…?”

“I didn’t.”

“Huh,” murmured Harvey, at a loss.

Witches went around sleeping with people they didn’t even like. That was nothing he hadn’t known before. He was sitting on the concrete floor of the garage, and it was cold in there. It certainly wasn’t his place to judge Nick, who had been entirely single at the time. He hadn’t even been with Sabrina, back then.

“Well,” said Harvey. “That doesn’t really have anything to do with me, but thanks for your honesty.”

Nick made a face there, as if Harvey had got something wrong, but Harvey couldn’t work out what. Harvey had said he wanted Nick to be honest, so he guessed Nick was just trying to do that? What a weird lie to tell. 

“You keep asking for honesty, but you don’t seem thrilled when you get it,” Nick drawled.

“I’d still—I’d still rather know,” said Harvey.

Nick made a noncommittal sound. Then he said, “Get up off the floor.”

He’d made sure to settle Nick on the good sofa. Harvey went and sat on the low, broken-down armchair they kept in here. He wondered why Nick had asked, but then Nick came and sat on the arm of the chair. 

Oh. Did Nick… want to make out? Harvey tilted his head.

“What would you think about falling from grace?” Nick asked abruptly.

“Uh,” said Harvey. “What?”

Weird, he’d never imagined wishing for witches to actually be discussing sexy stuff.

“Lucifer is a fallen angel,” elaborated Nick. “Surely he’d want to add to his ranks. And perhaps He’s right to have grand plans for Sabrina. She should have power and glory. What if—what if Satan coming isn’t so bad? Father Blackwood should be stopped. Maybe Satan wants to put Sabrina in a position where she can change the world. Wouldn’t she like that?”

It didn’t seem as though Satan was giving Sabrina much of a choice. She hadn’t been asked if she wanted to be the harbinger, or put in a creepy mosaic centuries before she was born. And Harvey knew Nick wouldn’t wish for anything Sabrina didn’t want, any more than Harvey would. 

Thinking of that—of her great, high destiny… it made Harvey’s stomach lurch as he felt horribly far away from her.

Queen of hell. And he was just some guy.

Nick passed a hand through Harvey’s hair, absently, and Harvey leaned in, grateful. This wasn’t Nick’s fault, either. This was difficult for him, as he’d said it would be difficult for the Spellmans. Satan was his god. He was a choirboy. Nick and the Spellmans were doing something heroic. 

It was natural to hope there was a way out.

Nick seemed to take the leaning as encouragement to go on. “You wouldn’t have to do anything in particular,” he coaxed. “I’ll handle that. You can just keep hanging around being absurd and collecting music that’s vinyl and having soft hair.” 

Harvey was barely listening, as this was a concerning take on the situation. He wanted to be religiously tolerant, but there were limits.

“Nick,” he said, “my dad makes me work in the mines and won’t let me work in the bookstore.”

“Oh?” Nick asked. “You can do what you like. I’ll handle your father.”

The casual way he said that was chilling. Harvey leaned away from him.

“No, see, you’re not getting it. My dad won’t let me do what I want, because he’s already decided what kind of person I’m gonna be. And Satan’s doing that to Sabrina, as well. Sabrina won’t put up with that, not for a minute. I don’t want her to.”

Nick stood from the arm of the chair. Shadows seemed to gather and collect around him.

“Your father,” he said, “is a miserable, pathetic, crawling worm. And the Dark Lord is a god.”

“Then why’s a god acting like a worm?” Harvey whispered. 

Nick stared at him furiously, scared and angry as an animal in a trap. Maybe Harvey was talking sacrilege. He wouldn’t have done that to Roz, and he shouldn’t do it to Nick. But God wasn’t currently trying to pressure Roz into a job. 

He’d hoped angels might be nice, but they hadn’t been. Satan hadn’t protected Zelda Spellman from being brainwashed, or Prudence from being almost eaten. Even when Tommy was there, he’d tried so hard but he’d never been able to protect Harvey from Dad. Nobody was coming to save anyone. Certainly not Satan.

“I know you don’t want Sabrina to do anything she doesn’t want to do,” Harvey continued.

“Of course I don’t!” Nick snarled. “But if the Dark Lord isn’t like Father Blackwood—if he’s different, and she changes her mind, then you—”

“Nick, he’s hurting you!” 

Nick waved a hand. “That doesn’t matter. It’s nothing much.”

“It does matter,” said Harvey inflexibly. “It matters very much.”

This point of view seemed to profoundly startle Nick. He had the same look he got when Sabrina told him to take care, lost and uncertain about taking the next step, as though he might get more lost soon. 

At least he didn’t look so angry anymore.

He crossed the concrete garage floor and took Harvey’s face in his hands.

“I think you must be out of your mind,” Nick said, leaning down for a kiss, “but you’re very sweet.”

“Oh,” said Harvey, pleased. 

He smiled up at Nick from his chair and saw that now Nick wasn’t looking angry, he looked very tired. He wished he could do something to help, or cheer Nick up. He tried to think of something Nick might want.

“Would you like me to make you lasagna?” he offered doubtfully. 

Nick shook his head. 

“Wow, you are feeling lousy,” Harvey said, standing in concern. 

He took a step forward and Nick leaned in to be drawn against him, the way he had outside Ms Wardwell’s cottage. Nick leaned his face down on Harvey’s shoulder and sighed. 

“I have to do something,” said Nick. “Stay with me.”

He headed for Harvey’s bedroom, and Harvey followed. Nick took two of Harvey’s pens out of his jar on his drawing desk, summoned an eerie-looking book into his hands, and sat on Harvey’s bed with his intent studying expression. Harvey brought him tea.

Nick had said stay with me in the same way Sabrina had once said _Keep talking, Harvey Kinkle_ on the phone on her first night in the Academy. Harvey couldn’t do much, but he could do the small things.

He got a sketchpad and sat on the bed with Nick, knees touching, stars coming out over the trees outside his window. Harvey drew a picture, Nick with his curls falling into his eyes, absorbed. He’d drawn a picture of Nick studying at his kitchen table, in the short time before New Year’s. This was much the same: Nick’s expression, the open book, Harvey thinking he might have got this guy wrong, after all. It was only how Harvey felt that was different.

“All right, try it,” said Nick, holding out a pen to Harvey. “Mostly they only work one-way, but I think I worked out a short-cut.”

This was more genius, probably, but Harvey didn’t entirely get it. “What do you want me to do?”

“Write on your skin,” said Nick.

“Wow, Nick, I hate to break this to you, but pens actually already write on skin.”

Nick made a face at him. Harvey grinned and wrote ‘Nerd’ on his hand. Then Nick held up his own hand, and ‘Nerd’ was written on Nick's palm in Harvey’s handwriting.

“Oh,” said Harvey, and didn’t tell Nick texting existed. He wasn’t sure how Nick would feel about getting a phone, anyway. “Cool.”

Nick rubbed his forehead. “Keep it. Tell me where you are, all right? Let me know if you need help.”

“All right,” said Harvey softly, touched, and putting the pen in his pocket. “Thanks. I mean it.”

Nick hid away his own pen. “It’s nothing. What were you doing, little mortal?”

“Just looking at you.” 

Harvey showed him the picture. Nick surveyed it, looking surprised again, but in a pleased way.

Harvey remembered what had happened to the last drawing. “Don’t burn this one!”

“No.” Nick leaned in, angling for a kiss. “Let’s keep this one.”

Harvey smiled and kissed him obligingly. Nick took a fistful of his shirt, and held on. He still looked tired, but he reached out for his book with his free hand. 

“Hey, when you told Roz that I got you books from the library,” said Harvey. “I did, and I’ll get more, but you have to return the first one I got you.”

“No,” said Nick, yawning but determined. “No giving back books. Only getting more books. More and more.” 

“That’s not how libraries work…” said Harvey. Nick leaned his head down on Harvey’s shoulder and opened his book. “Hey, what do you say to getting some sleep?”

“You should go ahead,” Nick told him. “I have to help Sabrina. Maybe there’s something in this book… or another book…”

“I don’t know that it really helps ’Brina if you keel over.”

Harvey didn’t point out that perhaps the real reason Nick didn’t want to sleep was that Nick was afraid of what the dreams might be, now Lucifer was walking the world. Anything indicating Nick might not be useful twenty-four seven would just make Nick all prickly, and that wouldn’t be helpful for sleeping.

Instead, he said: “I think it might be helpful if everybody relaxed.”

Nick began to smirk, lifting up his head and leaning in to press the smirk against Harvey’s ear and whisper, “Well, if you’re suggesting you’d like some comfort, I’d be up for that…”

Oh no, how was Harvey ever going to suggest that Nick might need actual comfort now ‘comfort’ was a distressing sexy code word?

“Um,” said Harvey, and started and shivered as Nick bit his ear, “uh, what if the relaxing had nothing to do with me?” 

“Oh,” said Nick, pulling back slightly but still smirking, “so that’s how it is. All right, I’m done resisting. Have it your way.”

Harvey was very new to having a boyfriend. Was it acceptable to ask them what the hell they were talking about and why they were so weird? Maybe if he added an endearment somewhere in there? ‘What the hell are you ever saying, honey? It’s just vaguely sexual nerd noise?’

No. Okay, so Nick was smart, and was thus intelligently agreeing to Harvey’s plan that Nick should get some sleep.

“Right,” Harvey said, uncertain. “Good. Into bed.”

Nick looked at him expectantly, from close up. Did he want directions? Possibly yes. Nick seemed to like being told what to do sometimes.

“Off with your shirt…?” 

Nick leaned in so abruptly Harvey thought for an instant it might just be falling forward, so put up his hands to catch Nick and just—ended up with his hands on Nick, and Nick leaning against his palms and smug as a cat.

“Take it off for me,” Nick suggested. 

Harvey wasn’t an idiot, he could tell this was sexy business, but—that also seemed all right, he thought tentatively, working it out as he went. If Nick wanted some shirtless making out before going to sleep… that seemed more than all right.

“Okay, nerd,” he said, smiling, and Nick kissed him. 

Nick’s hand went to the nape of his neck, and Nick sighed into his mouth, and it was difficult to undo the buttons of shirts while kissing. He saw why Sabrina had just ripped his open that one time. Nick’s shirt was fancy, though, so Harvey tried to concentrate and work the small buttons through. Despite the fact Nick was making it extremely difficult to concentrate.

Finally the shirt fell open and Harvey slid his hands inside to muscles and heated skin.

Nick gave a supremely pleased sigh and drew him in closer, then fell back against Harvey’s blue cotton pillows. 

“What are you waiting for?” Nick murmured. “Do the angel thing.”

If minds had rates like hearts, Harvey’s would have spiked just then. 

Oh God, now they had weird sexy celestial misunderstandings as well as weird sexy satanic misunderstandings! Nick had believed Harvey was suggesting celestial sex stuff before, and now Nick believed Harvey was doing it again. When Harvey would never suggest celestial sex stuff ever in his life!

Harvey opened his mouth to correct Nick, then it occurred to him that he was the worst boyfriend any dude had ever had. Already today he’d informed Nick that he had never intended to date him at all, and now he was supposed to break the news that, ha ha, he also hadn’t ever intended to offer what Nick must think of as comfort? 

No. He couldn’t do that. So... the other option was doing the celestial powers… thing.

Harvey considered it.

He’d used it before. He’d hurt people with it. It would be… all right, to be sure he wasn’t hurting someone. To be able to do something that would comfort Nick. 

“I—okay,” said Harvey. “Give me a minute.”

He’d never tried to do this consciously, always had it pulled out of him by need. Touching Nick had helped, he remembered, so he leaned forward to touch but then his hand ended up hovering.

“Uh.” His voice scraped in his throat, uncertain and embarrassing. “Where should I touch you?”

Nick gazed up at him with his shirt open and eyes hooded, looking intimidatingly like art. 

“Wherever you want,” said Nick. “As long as you do.”

Harvey hovered some more. Nick wriggled out of his fancy shirt, crumpled it up and threw it, which was probably a good sign. 

It was just Harvey hadn’t really done anything like this in his life. He had done it before, of course. Technically. But that was when Harvey thought he had to do it, because Nick was a prisoner, and he must be protected and taken care of. Also it was torture, which was horrible but somehow less awkward.

“How about this?” 

Nick reached out, careful, took Harvey’s hand and laid it against Nick’s heart, the same place Harvey had put their joined hands. Harvey, of course, had been wearing a shirt at the time. Harvey also, while he did work out sometimes and used an axe other times and apparently had a six pack, hadn’t worked out like Nick obviously had and didn’t have all the chest muscle situation and definition going on that Nick did.

This was a romantic gesture from a witch. Harvey suspected that if he’d been raised not as a witch, Nick would be pretty stellar at romance. He smiled at Nick, fond as well as intimidated, and Nick smiled back a little. Nick was considering being fond of Harvey back.

It didn’t… necessarily have to be that sexual. It hadn’t been with Prudence. It could be less platonic than with Prudence. Harvey wondered how to request a celestial powers-equivalent of a sexy but also soothing makeout.

Harvey leaned over Nick and tried to concentrate. Obviously, he hesitated too long.

“You don’t have to. No big deal,” Nick teased, a little sweet and reassuring but a lot mocking, “Don’t be self-conscious. I’m sure it happens to all angels…”

Harvey huffed out a laugh. “You know what? Screw you, jerk,” he said, and blasted the power through.

Nick tossed his head back, so it slammed hard against the pillow, and let out a long guttural sound. Alarmed, Harvey tried to draw his hand back.

“Am I hurting—”

“If you stop, I will burn _you_ on a pyre, witch hunter,” Nick gasped. 

His body arched off the bed. His eyes fell almost shut, with the whites gleaming beneath lowered lashes.

“All right,” Harvey whispered, leaning closer. “I won’t stop.”

Nick made an incoherent, blissed-out sound, and used his hold on Harvey’s shirt to pull him down, Harvey’s knees on either side of Nick’s waist, arched over Nick so as not to crush him and not to… get too close, or… 

Nick lifted his head to kiss Harvey, a wild sloppy kiss that almost missed, then his head was tipped back again, ecstatic moans sounding ripped out of him. Harvey kissed Nick’s throat and felt the desperate noises Nick was making, reverberating against his mouth. 

Nick slid his hands up under Harvey’s shirt, writhing underneath him, palming his nipples, begging for more.

“I—oh, please, please, please,” Nick said in a rush, rolling his hips upward, “I don’t want your celestial light, I want your—”

“Nicholas!” Harvey yelped, snatching his hands back, and rolled away to the other side of the bed. 

Nick made a very different sound into the pillow. His snarls were ultra-realistic, due to being raised by wolves. 

“Is this some form of edging?” 

“What do you mean,” asked Harvey, mystified. “Witches do sexy stuff with cliffs?”

“No.” Nick blinked, looking dazed. “Well, sometimes, but that’s not the issue.”

Harvey climbed out of bed, almost walked into the doorframe, held onto it for an instant, then made his way dizzily into the bathroom and came back with a glass of water. He climbed back into bed and bullied Nick into drinking the water and Nick leaned against him and did so until the water was gone and Nick had calmed down.

Harvey was, in fact, aware what the issue was.

“The thing is…” Harvey said, clumsily, “that was getting very… uh… sexual…”

“You amaze me.”

“If I’m gonna do that,” said Harvey. “I wanna be in love.”

If it had been Sabrina or Roz who wanted to, it would mean they loved him. Harvey recalled Nick had randomly slept with Luke, who he disliked. With witches, it was a handshake. 

Nick was silent, for a while, staring off at Harvey’s window with his jaw held tight. “So Sabrina, then,” he said at last, in a voice trying so hard to be neutral that it wasn’t neutral, but Harvey couldn’t tell what it was.

“Yeah,” Harvey mumbled. “I mean. I hope so. ’Brina’s said some stuff that I think might mean…”

“I’m sure it does,” said Nick. 

He was trying so hard, it made Harvey’s heart clench and made him feel slightly insane.

“What if…” he said. “… you were there too?”

Nick turned his head away from the window.

“I mean, before in Sabrina’s bedroom, that was… That can work, can’t it?” Harvey asked, panicking even as he spoke, but panicking in a happier way now that Nick didn’t look so remote. “I don’t know exactly how…”

“It can work,” Nick assured him in a rush, leaning across the pillows to stop Harvey’s rambling mouth with a kiss, thank God. “Thank you, farm boy,” he said, into the end of the kiss, then went in for another.

When Harvey pushed him gently away, Nick put his face back into the pillow. Harvey petted his wildly disordered curls, and got his own breathing under control. When Harvey put an arm around him Nick drew in. After a time, in a halting almost shy movement, he slid an arm around Harvey’s waist.

“Not soon. Not yet!” Harvey warned him. “I need to get to know you better.”

Nick gave a discontented mumble. 

“What was that?” asked Harvey sternly. Nick should not be pressuring anybody!

“What if, when you get to know me better,” Nick said, low against Harvey’s shoulder without looking up, “you don’t like me?”

Oh. Oh, Harvey had misunderstood.

“I think I will,” Harvey told the top of Nick’s head, breath stirring the ruffled black curls, tender. 

It wasn’t so different from the unhallowed church, the place that had always been sacred in some form or another to somebody. In the end, you chose what was sacred. 

Nick was to be protected and taken care of, still. 

\--

Harvey had to get up pretty early, so he dropped a kiss on Nick’s hair as he lay sleeping and headed out. He left a black coffee by the side of the bed. Maybe Nick could heat it up with magic.

He knew Nick wasn’t thrilled about Harvey’s plan, but Harvey still intended to help.

First Harvey had to collect explosives. Getting hold of the dynamite wasn’t difficult. His dad didn’t have proper security measures, which had probably made the witches’ job easier when they collapsed the mine and killed so many, including Tommy. Harvey tried not to think about that as he stockpiled the dynamite and hid it in Tunnel Thirteen. 

The tunnel seemed hotter than usual, and cold chills ran down his spine, but he drove over to Roz’s house with a trunk full of guns. He’d been keeping everyone in the text loop, and Theo was waiting for him with Roz, gun in hand. Theo looked ready. It was Roz who seemed entirely apprehensive. 

“Harvey,” said Roz, “I don’t know how to load a gun.”

“I’ll show you how,” he soothed her. 

She didn’t look soothed. He showed her, several times. He knew she’d get the hang of it fast, she was so smart. But she bit her lip watching him do it a fourth time, and he checked himself. He didn’t want to cause her any more pain.

“You want to bring a cleaver too?” he asked sympathetically.

Roz made a slightly despairing face at him. Then she said, “Yeah, okay.”

She got a cleaver and put it in the belt of her skirt. They climbed in the truck and headed for the gates of hell. 

“If we survive this,” Theo said. “We’ll start our band, okay? No time like the present.”

“Okay,” said Harvey. “I’ve been singing more lately, anyway.”

“I'm mostly gonna be in a band to get some non-literal play. I’ve heard being in a band means you score chicks,” said Theo. “So you must be able to score dudes as well. You’d know, Harv.”

He cackled when Harvey hit him in the arm, then went guiltily quiet in the face of Roz’s dignified silence. 

“So the Nick thing… is real?” Roz asked in her sweet low voice, as they went down into the mines.

Harvey was glad it was dark, so she couldn’t see him blush.

“Yeah, it’s real. I don’t think I’m very good at not being real.”

“No, you’re not,” said Roz. 

She gave him a little sad smile, the girl he’d wanted to love for all his life. The girl he would love for all his life, just not the way he’d planned. They would be friends forever, and any one of them would leap to help any of the others.

So they walked together downward, and got into position outside the gates of hell. The gates were already a little open, the opposite of a warm draft snaking through the air. Hot as a strange breath on your neck.

 _Where are you?_ Nick’s handwriting appeared on Harvey’s palm as Harvey checked his rifle.

Harvey took the cap off his pen with his teeth and wrote on his forearm, braced against his gun. _Gates of hell. Guns & dynamite. Can’t talk._

The writing unrolled like a scroll, starting at his palm then rolling all the way down his arm and under his sleeve.

_You what!_

_Why are you like this!_

_Mortals are idiots!_

_I have to talk to someone._

_I can’t come right now but I will come._

_Go back._

_Stop._

_Think twice or once at least._

_Do you never_

Harvey stopped pushing his sleeve back. He couldn’t see any more unless he took off his shirt, and he wasn’t gonna do that. He was sorry Nick was upset and all, but he’d made up his mind. Nick didn’t get to tell him not to go down the mines, any more than Sabrina did.

“Is Nick writing you sweet nothings?” Theo asked.

“Uh,” said Harvey. “Something like that.” He added, in a low voice, as Roz was standing further away and fiddling with her gun, “Nick said he was gonna try and like me? For real.”

“Did he!” said Theo in a hollow voice. “I’m speechless.”

“I know, I think it’s pretty cool as well.” 

“Anyway, please ignore the arm sexts and focus on the demons!” said Theo. 

As usual, Theo was right.

The gates were creaking open further, metal glowing red , groaning as if under immense pressure. Suddenly Harvey could see why people might be worried about him going down into the mines. He’d brought Theo and Roz down here.

He aimed and fired at the indistinct figures trying to get through the gates, shots the only sounds echoing through his head, until he heard Roz’s voice. 

“I can see…” Roz murmured frantically. 

“What?” Harvey asked. “Tell me. Show me!”

Roz stepped up to him, her hands pressed to his face, and as her Cunning that saw the future seemed to leap out to him he saw—demons, gates opening, screaming, a muddle, and he reached out with what light he had to see more clearly.

A way opened. He saw her, as well as the disaster of a future, as well as a symbol he was trying frantically to draw even as Roz gasped. He saw Roz's mind and heart, laid bare by angelic light. Love, resentment, panic, awe, the thought of wings and laying with angels, a crying out that rang through both their heads.

“Harvey!” Roz shouted, in his head and outside it. “Get out!” 

He leaped back. As they stood staring at each other, Theo cursed under his breath and ran toward the rattling gates with Harvey’s sketchbook in hand. He flung himself bodily at the opening gates, and they held for another bone-shaking second, and Harvey knew that he had to do something. Paint the mines gold, turn the demons to ash and bone, whatever he had to do, so that Theo would be safe.

Then all the heat and screams and rattles faded away. He hadn’t done anything. A miracle must have happened.

Sabrina. 

His girl, performing her strange miracles.

Harvey pulled out his phone and texted her to ask what had happened. His phone was silent as they climbed out of the mines, and he drove Roz and Theo home.

“You were so brave, Theo,” Harvey told him.

“I may be crazy now too,” Theo said cheerfully.

“You were brave,” Roz told him, her voice colorless. “Harvey… never do that again.”

“I won’t! I didn’t mean to do it the first time, I was just trying to see your vision, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy! I didn’t know how you—you broke up with me!”

Theo eyeballed the passing cars wildly, as if wishing to teleport into one of them. 

“I know I did,” Roz said, staring straight ahead.

He could still feel a twin echo of both her longing and her awe, so strong it went all the way into revulsion. For being an angel, which he wasn’t. Not really.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Harvey, without even really knowing what he was sorry for. "I didn't know."

He hadn’t know how she felt, not really, not until he felt it too. He was sorry for hurting her. He could be sorry for that. 

Roz’s hands were clasped tight in her lap. “If you’d known before, would it have made a difference?”

“I can’t answer that!” snapped Harvey. “I’ve got a girlfriend! _And_ a boyfriend!”

He pulled up outside Roz’s house. She took Theo’s hand. “Will you come in with me?” she asked. “Can we have a sleepover?”

He watched them go into the house hand in hand, weary and stained from the mines. Harvey had been the one who comforted Roz through her blindness. Harvey had always been invited to the sleepovers, before. 

It wasn’t like he could sleep over anywhere. There was Nick to think of now.

He didn’t want to get in the way of a super sneaky magic plan to defeat Satan, so all he could think of to do now was go home. His dad wasn’t there, still. His dad must be spending so much, just on motels. Harvey was beginning to worry about that.

He was pacing the kitchen floor when his phone buzzed with a message from Sabrina. Her text said, _Come over._

Harvey texted back, _What’s going on?_

 _I’ll explain when you get here_ , Sabrina returned.

Was this about her family fighting Satan? Or had something else gone wrong? 

As he was staring in alarm at the screen, Harvey’s skin tingled as black writing appeared on his palm again. Far away, Nick wrote, _Stay home. I can explain._

Harvey reached for his keys. 

He couldn’t do nothing, but he’d made Nick promises, as well as Sabrina. He had to go to her, but first he drove to the Academy to check in with Nick about what the problem might be.

He was slightly worried when he parked his truck outside the gray façade of the school, since there was the whole evil leader of the witches Father Blackwood deal to handle, but luck was with him. Demonia was skipping around in the dead leaves outside, singing a song to someone called Quentin and pausing as if she was listening to him sing back.

Then she saw Harvey and abandoned her song.

“Harvey, Harvey, Harvey!” she said. “Prudence said we had to come back to the Academy even though there’s no nice things to eat and no nice lady and no mortals here but now you’re here! I’m so happy!”

Harvey knelt down, and touched her cheek. She had a dimple when she smiled. “Yeah? I’m happy to see you too. Can I come inside?” 

“Oh yes,” said Demonia. “I will take you inside, Harvey! Would you like to see my ferret skull collection!”

“Yes, totally,” Harvey lied without hesitation, “but I need to find Nick right now, kind of urgently, so could I come back and see the ferret skulls another time?” 

He felt really bad when Demonia’s face fell as they climbed the steps.

“Is it true the things Nick says?” Demonia asked, after a pause.

“I’m sure it is,” said Harvey. “You can trust Nick. What is he saying?”

Demonia’s face only grew more gloomy. “Now he’s your boyfriend, does he get songs and lasagna?”

Nick told everyone! Nick told children! No, it was fine, it was true.

“I mean… yeah?”

“If Nick were to die…” said Demonia.

“What! What would he die of?”

“Not poison,” Demonia answered, too quickly.

Harvey stared.

“Would you be very sad?” Demonia asked. “Because you love him?”

“I don’t…” said Harvey. “I might… That’s a big question. I don’t know yet. I care.”

More gloom settled over Demonia. “So I mustn’t poison Nick because you care him.”

“Please don’t poison anybody!” 

Demonia looked oppressed by this unreasonable request. 

“I’ll make lasagna for you and sing you songs, too, if you want,” Harvey promised her. 

Demonia perked up. “You care me, too?”

“Well, that’s not—” Demonia instantly appeared devastated. “I mean! Of course I—I care you, Demonia. Though in a different way. Very, very different.”

“Do both ways involve lasagna?” asked Demonia, eye on the weird prize. “And hugs?”

“Well, I don’t know that Nick really wants… hugs…” said Harvey. “Since he’s all… cool, and stuff.”

Nick would lean in to be collected up, gathered within the circle of Harvey’s arm, but he didn’t exactly hug back. Nick did hug Sabrina whenever she ran at him, a concerned and startled expression on his face. Maybe he was okay with hugs? Maybe just hugs from Sabrina, that would be very understandable. 

“I get hugs,” said Demonia, smug. 

Harvey knelt down in front of a creepy statue of a creepy dude, and gave her a hug that minute, because she was too cute. She stood like a stick, not hugging back, but then one little hand crept up to touch Harvey’s back. Witches could be taught.

“Oh no,” Prudence said, entering the hall. “Oh, my eyes.”

She suited her actions to her words, hand dramatically in front of her eyes, close-cropped white hair gleaming in the shadows. 

“Hi, Prudence,” said Harvey, glad to see her.

“Witch hunter, explain your presence.”

“I was looking for Nick.”

“This is not the time! Of course, I seldom have much time for your sad romantic drama,” said Prudence. “Oooh, ooh, monogamy, let’s make everything difficult for ourselves on purpose! I realize you’ve moved past that but I know there will be more problems. Currently I want your hand-holding absurdity out of my face! Our Dark Lord has come upon this earth, and my father returned after being summoned to an interview with him in a most foul humour, and now he wishes to call an assembly and I know not what result will come from it. I know only that Sabrina will be determined against my father and Ambrose will madly follow her—”

“Didn’t your dad, like, frame Ambrose for murder,” said Harvey.

Demonia gave the statue of the creepy dude an alarmed glance. Oh no, was the statue Prudence’s dad? Well, not the statue, people’s family members weren’t statues.

Prudence’s dad had had a bad job interview with Satan? Maybe Father Blackwood was fired. Maybe Prudence would be in charge instead. No, she seemed young. Could one of the Spellmans be boss of the Church of Night?

“I don’t know if my father framed Ambrose for murder!” exclaimed Prudence. “My father might have! Or perhaps Ambrose murdered somebody! Why are we worrying about silly trifling things like murder. Cease bothering me. I cannot pay any mind to what that fool Sabrina does, or any who follow her. Including Ambrose. Including Nicky. And most certainly including you.” 

She made to turn away.

“Satan and your dad…” said Harvey. “They don’t seem… worthy of you.”

“No man is,” said Prudence. “Yet these men dictate our fate. The choice is between freedom and power, and I choose power every time.”

“Is this power?” Harvey asked, low. 

Prudence stepped up to him, eyes glittering within a perfect frame of kohl. 

“More power than you have. I have raced the stars under a hundred full moons with my sisters, while you cowered in your little house and could do less than nothing to save your brother. Have you ever felt powerful, even for a moment?”

Harvey couldn’t hold her gaze. His eyes cut away from her. Prudence leaned away from him, point made.

“Nicky is not here. Leave, and don’t return. My advice to you, witch-hunter, is to run as far and as fast from our satanic affairs as you can. You are mortal enough to be ruined. Come, Demonia, we must go to my father’s assembly!”

She spun on her heel. Demonia hopped from foot to foot, looking anxiously up at Harvey.

“Go with Prudence,” he encouraged her gently, and she turned and ran lightly toward the unhallowed church and Father Blackwood’s assembly. She’d be safe there, with her coven.

He had to go. He’d kept Sabrina waiting long enough. 

\--

He drove to Sabrina’s and left his truck outside, running up to the lean on the doorbell. Hilda Spellman answered the door, her sweet eyes wide. There was a large knife in her hand.

“Uh,” said Harvey.

“Sweet Harvey!” she said, and thrust the large knife behind her back. Harvey kept staring at her. “Ah… go see Sabrina, would you, love? She’s a titch upset.”

“Did you guys fight Satan!”

“Bit of a… bit of a turn there,” Hilda admitted. “Oh gracious, if you go into the kitchen, don’t eat any of the warm cookies lying out!”

“What—what’s wrong with the cookies?”

Hilda patted his arm, with her free, non-knife-wielding hand. “Nothing, nothing. No, but seriously don’t eat them.” 

“Okay…” said Harvey. “I’ll go see Sabrina.”

“Such a sweet boy,” said Hilda. “That’s best! That’s best.”

She seemed very frazzled. Harvey wondered what was in the cookies, and decided he didn’t want to know. He took the steps to the double staircase two at a time, worried he was too late to help ’Brina.

Nick’s voice, from the other side of Sabrina’s bedroom door, said, “—I really did fall in love with you!”

Oh, no. Harvey couldn’t be here for this. It was a special time for Nick and Sabrina. They didn’t need a third wheel, a hanger-on who would spoil the moment. He should go back downstairs, and ask Hilda Spellman about the cookies.

He turned, and made his way down the stairs, then changed his mind. He remembered Sabrina’s hand in his, in the woods and her bedroom. Nick holding onto him, in his own bedroom. He’d promised this was for real, and Harvey tried really hard to tell the truth. Maybe he should be there. Maybe they would be glad to see him.

He took a deep breath, turned back around, and slowly climbed the stairs. Even turning the doorknob felt trickier than usual.

And as the door swung open, his heart plummeted down into a pit. Nobody looked remotely pleased to see him. Nobody even noticed he was there.

Nick was all in black, face ashen.

Sabrina was in the midst of saying, with furious coldness, “—Maybe I won’t hate you for the rest of my life.”

“… Hate him?” That wasn’t a normal response to a declaration of love, surely, even among the witches. “’Brina, what’s going on?”

Even in the midst of bewilderment, Harvey was aware there was something terribly wrong. He just didn’t want to know it.

Sabrina spun around. “Harvey!” she said, hurrying to him. “My good, honest Harvey.”

She shot Nick a venomous look, and gave Harvey a kiss. Harvey’s mouth felt bruised. The kiss was aimed at Nick, and didn’t feel like it was for him. Her kiss had always felt like it was for him before. 

“What happened?”

“Satan is my father!” Sabrina’s face was same the white that her knuckles went, when her fists were clenched tight.

The bottom of Harvey’s stomach dropped out. “Ew! And he wants you to be his bride?”

Sabrina blinked. “Oh, no. I mean, he wants me to rule hell beside him as queen, but as his daughter. I think. I mean, he didn’t actually say not as his bride, but surely that was implied!”

“I don’t know, we’re talking about Satan here! I think we need to double check,” said Harvey urgently, then forced himself to calm down. 

This wasn’t his news, it was Sabrina’s, and when he took her into his arms, she was trembling. 

“’Brina, I’m so sorry. I know how you feel about your family.”

If Edward Spellman wasn’t her father.. was she a Spellman? But she was, of course she was. Harvey had seen how much the Spellmans loved her. That much love must mean they belonged together.

Sabrina closed her eyes and a tear fell, glittering, from each eye. Harvey kissed them away. Sabrina trembled in his arms, then lifted her chin.

“Edward Spellman will still be my father,” she declared. “I choose that. But we have to defeat Lucifer first! Attacking him didn't work. He was going to kill my aunts and Ambrose, so I said I’d do what he wanted, but I never will!”

That was why the gates had closed, then. He’d known the miracle was Sabrina, but it seemed she’d agreed to Lucifer’s offer of a throne for the same reason she’d signed the Book. To protect them all. To protect him.

Love shouldn’t mean weakness. He’d always believed it meant strength.

Sabrina went over to the bed and showed him a magic box she intended to bind Satan with. They had to try a sneak attack next. Apparently she was planning a party to distract the Dark Lord, to celebrate his victory and his daughter’s submission. That was when they would get him. The box seemed small, to fit a whole Satan inside, but Harvey didn't really get magic. 

“Are you with me?” she asked Harvey.

Her back was very straight, and her eyes were very dark.

“Yeah, ’Brina, of course,” said Harvey, then risked a look at Nick. “What about—”

“Oh, him?” Sabrina’s voice was breezy, in a way that made Harvey think of a storm. “He was doing Lucifer’s dirty work, this whole time. The Dark Lord asked him for his service, and he came and sat with me at lunch and held my hand. Made me like him. Made me trust him. On his god’s orders. He spied on me for Lucifer, and lied to me, just as Ms Wardwell--I mean, Lilith!--did.”

“He did what?”

Harvey could barely get the words out through stiff lips. The whole world seemed turned upside down, everything tumbling and Harvey stupidly frozen in the midst of the chaos. The one thing he’d always been sure of was that Nick was devoted to Sabrina. That he would do anything for her. If that wasn’t true, Harvey was sure of nothing.

And yet it made a terrible kind of sense. 

Nick’s head was hanging. “I’ve told you how I feel—”

“Does that matter?” Harvey demanded. “What matters is what you did.”

Wow. Nick had done a lot. Harvey crushed down the thought of how much. Talk about being truly dedicated to the dark god’s service. 

It was Sabrina’s right to be furious, not his. This was Sabrina’s hour of need. Harvey wrenched his gaze off Nick, and looked to Sabrina.

“He claims to want to help us now,” said Sabrina, and there was a note in her voice that reminded Harvey of her voice when she’d claimed to be the Dark Lord’s sword. “He’d better not betray me again. Let’s get Roz and Theo here, okay? We need to plan. And I need people around me I can trust.”

\-- 

Harvey got home late that night, to a dark and silent house. He hung up his shotgun by the door, then made his way to the kitchen. He didn’t want to, but he should eat.

For hours, they’d planned. He’d held Sabrina’s hand and tried to be there for her, known this was about her and not him. 

In the private dark of his own kitchen, he gave himself a few minutes to grasp the worn wooden back of a kitchen chair, bow his head, and try to deal. He didn’t succeed.

When he lifted his head, Nick was there.

Harvey held onto the back of his chair hard. “Get out.”

“I want to explain,” said Nick. 

He stood there, looking all troubled and dark-haired in the shadows. No doubt whatever he had to say would be the right thing. _I really did fall in love with you._ Nick always was smooth.

“No need,” said Harvey steadily. “Think I got it. Not in the mood to hear more lies.”

What was the point trying to win Harvey over again? Oh, but of course. Harvey had influence with Sabrina. And Nick thought Harvey was a sucker, clearly.

“Sabrina said yes to her Dark Devotion,” Nick said. “So did Prudence. So did Ambrose. So did Zelda and Hilda Spellman. The Dark Lord asked me to make nice with a cute girl, I didn’t see how it could do any harm. No witch can say no to their dark lord, you can’t do it—”

“You told me you did.”

“You assumed I did!” Nick snarled, the harmonics of his snarl like an animal in the dark. Harvey kept inviting magic in, kept being a moron. Nick was right about him. “Then you said it was cool and brave, and it was—the first thing you ever liked about me, and—”

“And it was a lie,” Harvey said, softly. “But then, so much was a lie. What wasn’t?”

“I,” said Nick. “I really—"

“No,” said Harvey. “No, you don’t have to lie. Satan visits you in your dreams, and asks you to approach this girl. Make her trust you. Seduce her?”

“No!” exclaimed Nick. “He said to—make her like me, hold her hand—"

Harvey scoffed. “Sure, when Satan tells you that, he doesn’t mean seduce her. And you’ve never tried to sleep with Sabrina. I suppose you didn’t invite her to an orgy, when she was dating me and I didn’t know a goddamn thing. You knew what Satan was asking. You offered to date her right away. Two boyfriends, if she still wanted to keep the stupid mortal. What did it matter? Am I wrong?”

Nick bit his lip and shook his head.

“Hey, lucky you, pretty easy Dark Devotion,” sneered Harvey. “After all, this was your favorite author’s daughter. And now, she’s your god’s daughter! What an upgrade! But now you have to smooth over this little issue. Poor Nick. You went through so much trouble, all because Sabrina didn’t fall at your feet right away. But then again, it didn’t take that long, did it? You approached me for, ah, advice. And Lilith suggested Sabrina raise my brother, and we broke up and you swooped in. She trusted you both, and you got her good, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t about her father,” said Nick hoarsely. “Not for long. She was so good to me, the night my familiar died.”

Sure. Nick had given Sabrina a fake heart and put her in danger that night, and she’d been kind to him and forgiven him. Why wouldn’t Nick expect her to do the same again, when the fake heart was his own and the danger was from hell? 

Sabrina was beautiful and powerful and had a heart big enough for the world. Nick might like her. But he’d chosen to be false, every step. Harvey didn’t call that love.

“And were you good to her? Sure, you faked it. Toss her a fake heart. Take her to a dance. Play along with all her schemes. Play at mortal love. And if Sabrina got badly freaked out about all the harbinger of hell stuff, hey, that idiot mortal might comfort her,” Harvey said. “Great idea. I was just another thing to toss at her.”

“I didn’t plan on ever seeing you again. I didn’t plan on getting expelled or stumbling over to your place when I was trashed. I didn’t plan on angels attacking our church,” Nick snapped. “You’re being st—ridiculous. This wasn’t some master plan of mine.” 

“I know. You didn’t plan anything,” said Harvey. “You just fell in with other people’s plans, and took advantage of every chance you got to make things go your way. And you can go ahead and call me stupid. Tell the truth for once.”

“Farm boy,” Nick murmured, pleading.

He was going to try and say something sweet. Harvey couldn’t hear it. 

“No more of that. I get it. I was a convenient solution. So what if you didn’t like me? You sleep with people you don’t like all the time. You slept with Luke.” 

A horrible thought struck Harvey. Was that what Nick had been trying to tell him, by telling him about Luke?

“I was lying!” Nick snarled. “In the diner, I was lying, it was _obvious_ I was lying!”

“Oh, Jesus,” said Harvey, for the sheer dark pleasure of seeing Nick flinch. “Give it a rest. How could I possibly believe that? You lied so many times. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

“I lied to you less than I lied to anybody in my whole life!” 

He got angry differently than Nick did, not in a cutting way but a way that wanted to crush and burn and blast. He wanted to punch Nick directly in the face. 

But he couldn’t. His eyes went, against to his will, to his own bedroom door. He’d been lying with Nick in his bed, night after night that would have been lonely without Nick, and you couldn’t hit someone after—after being with them like that.

Really convenient, those bad dreams. Really convenient, those lonely nights.

“I believe you,” Harvey said slowly. “You didn’t lie to me that much, because I’m mortal, and that means I don’t matter.”

“You matter,” said Nick.

“Really, mortals matter?” asked Harvey. 

He made for the bedroom door, but not his own. He strode over to his dad’s bedroom door, and threw it wide open. 

His dad was sitting in a chair in his room, utterly still, eyes wide and blank. His dad had even told Harvey that he’d been spending most of his time in a bedroom. Nick had known his father wouldn't bother Harvey. His dad was enchanted in the dark, not able to move or think, and some part of Harvey had been glad his dad wasn’t at home. 

As they watched, a fly buzzed through the night air and landed, a crawling black thing on the white of his father’s eye. His dad didn’t even blink.

“Mortals matter?” asked Harvey, wiping a sleeve across his eyes. “And you do this to them?”

Nick moved forward, but hesitating in a way Nick rarely did. So many lies were coming due, Harvey guessed, and Nick had thought he could get away with all of them.

“I just…” Nick faltered. “I just wanted to spend time with you.”

Harvey shook his head convulsively. "Were the nightmares even real?"

"They were real," said Nick.

"So you were ready to deliver Sabrina to someone who would do that to you, and hope it would go right? This all gets worse, and worse. There's no way to make this right."

When Nick took a step forward, Harvey stumbled back. 

The funny part was, Nick didn’t need to be here at all. Sabrina had said she might not hate Nick, even in the moment when she must have hated him the most. She’d let him stay, and let him profess his love. 

Harvey knew her, had felt the tenacious grip of the small hands he loved. Sabrina held on.

Sabrina wasn’t breaking up with Nick. She’d rage, and fume, and eventually forgive him. But it wasn’t like that for Harvey. Sabrina didn’t know how it was. She’d never been left all alone, brother worse than dead and father worse than nothing, the one person he still had left telling Harvey everything he knew was a lie. There was a bitter taste at the back of Harvey’s mouth. He could almost feel the weight of the gun in his hand, before he walked into his brother’s room. His head was sick and spinning with the weight of memories. He’d swallowed every lie. 

This was where lies led, to the world upside down again, to loneliness. And this time, Sabrina had been betrayed too. 

It was so funny, Harvey could die. 

“I’m sorry, all right?” Nick asked, saying what a mortal would want to hear, again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything. I’ll take the spell off him, I’ll never do it again, but first just let me—"

“No!” Harvey shouted, loud enough to drown out the remembered sound of a shot, loud enough to shout Nick down. “No more. All I asked for was that you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“I was already neck deep in lies! What could I do? ” Nick shouted back. “What was I ever supposed to do, to survive in my world, among the wolves? Ask me for something else! Anything else. I’ll do whatever you want.” 

“That’s how you’re gonna make it up to Sabrina, I guess,” said Harvey, too tired to shout any more. “You’ll be useful, and she’ll be grateful, and then you’ll get what you want again. Whatever I want? Leave me out of it.”

Harvey wrenched himself away from the sight of his father and toward the door, where the guns were kept. He didn’t go for the gun. He wrenched the door open, and the dark chill air blew in.

“I want you to go,” Harvey told Nick. “Go out into the cold. Stay out there for the rest of your life, for all I care.”

Nick didn’t move. 

“Oh, so 'whatever I want' was _another_ lie?” Harvey asked. “I should have known.”

Nick walked slowly out of the door. 

Harvey watched him go, head bowed.

“Nick?” he asked, and Nick turned, hair blurring with the night wind, face almost lost in the dark.

“What?” Even now, Nick sounded a little hopeful, as though he might get away with everything after all.

“No matter what happens with you and Sabrina? We’re done. I don’t want to hear another word out of your lying mouth ever again.”

Nick absorbed that, mouth twisting. Then he twisted his hands as well, tracing magic gestures on the dark, and in an instant he was gone and there was only the cold night.

Prudence had told him, hadn’t she? _You are still mortal enough to be ruined._

He couldn’t go inside and face his father. Not yet. He sat heavily down on his porch steps, where he’d found Nick sitting alone, drunk and devastated, last week. Only last week.

What a joke. Harvey couldn’t make himself laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Time to accept Sabrina Book 2 gave me brainweasels/plot bunnies galore. Apologies for editing the pairings: it's possible I have my first OT3, and apologies for the... for everything.


End file.
